Continuing yesterday’s post, Day 9: Communion, Part 1.
After my bizarre shaking episode at the wedding, it happened two more times in the following two weeks. Each time was less severe and I made sure to lay down as soon as I felt it coming over me.
I was worried I had some sort of heart problem and was irritated because I’d mentioned it to different medical professionals and felt they were just ignoring it. In fact, I’d had some chest pain a few days before the incident. I decided to do what I could at home. I tried a dose of Lachesis homeopathic remedy (which seemed to help), started hitting chlorophyll pretty hard again, and also decided to get back into a stretching/exercise routine. My husband forced me to take St. Johns Wart (for depression) as he had been telling me to take it for years, and I started taking high doses of vitamin D. All of these things combined seemed to really help me start feeling better. The scary episodes themselves were a wakeup call to pull me out of my suicidal thoughts.
I started to feel more even and stable and hoped that the worst was over for the time being.
Shortly after the New Year (2015), one night I layed my sleeping daughter down in her crib and was suddenly gripped with a feeling that everything was about to change. I had no idea if it was good or bad, only that something big was about to happen.
A few days later I had one mother of a headache. It felt like the side of my head was on fire. It sorta knocked me out for a couple days. About the time I was recovered from that, my dad had a heart attack. While I had been planning to take a long trip to Virginia fairly soon, I decided to leave as soon as possible. I felt such a mixed flurry of emotions. I longed to be with my dad and my family, but also felt that something important would happen while I was there. I didn’t exactly know what I meant, but I wrote in my journal, “I’m going to Virginia to get my song back.”
Although my health was starting to improve, I still struggled. After being in Virginia for a week or so, my daughter caught a stomach bug and then I caught it once she recovered. It had been quite a while since I’d felt that sick. I was throwing up for 3 days and just wanted it to end (I rarely get sick like that). In my pathetic state (so so pathetic, haha) I started exhaustedly and almost delirously talking through my relationship with God. There’s nothing quite like sickness to humble you and bring you to your knees. I suddenly had what felt like some profound revelation… I blurted out, “God loves me because he loves restoration.”
I felt so damn awful. On day 3 of puking with no relief in sight, I finally decided to starve out the sickness by not eating or drinking for 6 to 8 hours (not particularly easy when you’re breastfeeding). Somewhere around hour 5, totally desperate for relief, I felt led to take communion. I still had no idea what it all meant, but I asked my dad for some bread and wine. We prayed together and took communion, and holy cow, wine never tasted so good (I couldn’t tolerate alcohol back then but I was so thirsty!). I suddenly felt that I was healed. Healed from the sickness, yes, but also healed in general. I waited another hour or so before consuming anything and indeed, I never threw up again. It took a few days for my digestive system to feel back to normal, but once it was, I started feeling amazing.
It seemed like my initial feelings about communion at the wedding were correct. I wanted to take communion for healing, but fell apart before I had a chance to. Taking communion while I was sick, and with my father who’d just experienced a heart attack, felt like I was somehow completing something that was left unfinished for months. I was able to put my faith into action, and I felt so blessed to be granted healing. Perhaps God really loved me after all?
I was honestly shocked at how great I felt. My body and soul felt renewed. Robert and I hiked Sharp Top and it was such a fun and beautiful day. I couldn’t remember the last time I had that much energy and stamina. When we went back home and faced lots of new annoying circumstances, I barely cared. I was so thankful for life and for health.
For about 5 months I experienced a real high. I was able to navigate motherhood and handle all of its stresses with a grace I never before experienced, and I also spent time doing what I loved. I found time and energy for crafts and gardening, and I was playing music again. While in Virginia I began writing songs again, as I had not written much for about a year.
One of the songs I wrote during this time (click here to read lyrics):
I decided to read my Bible again. I hadn’t been able to really read it much since my daughter died. My perspective of the scriptures needed to change before I could read it again or else I’d just be pissed off reading all the old familiar verses that I felt failed me. But I finally came to a point where I was ready to see the Bible from a fresher perspective. I decided to really study the topic of healing and was adament I would write a book on it (hahahaha, like I was going to finally set the record straight?! I barely knew anything!). So I delved into the Bible in a new way, questioning my previous assumptions and interpretations.
Life was feeling good. There were so many times I would just take deep breaths and feel my heart so full… full of life and love. I whispered and spoke prayers of gratitude all day. Life was beautiful. I thought I had finally won. I was on top. I was healed.
Then I found out I was pregnant again and was ecstatic. Yes, life was GOOD!
But about a week later, everything came crashing in again. Along with the discomfort of first trimester nausea and exhaustion, deep down inside of me I felt something was off. I suddenly felt like I was plunged into deep waters and I couldn’t breathe…
To be continued.