It's been a while since I've written. A lot has happened since I
talked to you, including me in the ER. Did I say ER? Yes ma'am and yes
sir, that's what I said.
Now the folks that really know me are aware that I don't like doctors,
and moreover, I hate hospitals. The only reason I went frequently to
them was because I was the visitor *laughing*.
Anyway, I woke up early Thursday morning with a pain from hell. If I
didn't need a doctor's excuse for work, I probably wouldn't have gone,
but when Chris asked, I said yes. All the while, from the bed, to the
toilet, to the car, I kept declaring out loud "By Jesus' stripes, I am
healed." I believed that 100%. My body must line up with that fact.
Consequently, I do not sustain long sicknesses.
I tell people that sickness and I have an agreement--that it does not
come here and set up residence. It is uninvited.
Anyway, these hospitals here are definitely different from the ones in
Michigan. Once they decided that it might be my appendix or
gallbladder, they had the IV needle out and ready for insertion. I
hate needles. I hate being out of control and being controlled by
drugs. That just ain't God. Ya feel me?
I cried like a baby. All I kept saying was, "I wish I would have never
come. I don't want no IV. I'm so scared." As I was crying, I just kept
thinking about Chris and started to admire him all over again.
He goes three times a week to dialysis--where they put huge needles in
him. He takes it without complaint. If it were me, I would probably
just ask God to take me out of here.
The nurse was very nice to me, and I held Chris' hand. Man, I not only
felt like a wuss; I was a wuss and din't care one bit.
The more they talked about keeping me, the more I refuted that out
loud, telling them, "Oh no. I'm not staying here. I'm going home. You
won't be finding nothing."
I don't really know why I'm telling you this word for word. Maybe it's
for someone who's reading this or will read this. I want you to be
encouraged to stand on the Word of God. If He said your healing is
available--and He did--then, you agree with God and speak it forth.
Well, I'm sure you guessed it. They couldn't find any problems, and I
was home by 9:00 a.m. Because of the Demarol (or however it's
spelled), I slept all day without pain.
Friday, I came to work.
Saturday, for the first time, I went to evangelism. I stayed back to
pray because I fell on Thursday when I finally got up to walk Rusty. I
hurt the same ankle that Satan has been trying to take out since
2004--I fell in the snow and had to wear a cast and the whole nine
yards.
After Evangelism, I went shopping. I really don't like to cool, but I
have determined to cook for my husband at least on the weekends. I'm
getting my confidence back, cuz back in the early ninety's, I used to
throw down. I cooked all kinds of stuff--fried fish, chicken, pork
chops; round steaks with potatoes and gravy;... the list was endless.
Because of a lot of hurt (some of it was because of my rebellion), I
shut down (way down). But, I'm back up again--slowly but surely! Two
weeks ago, I cooked spaghetti. This weekend, I made meat loaf. Yall
got ideas for next weekend? Send 'em my way.
Well, that's about all for now. I know I've got to finish my family
portrait. I'm gonna try and do that today.
Stay tuned, and thanks for reading and commenting.
#End
--
Come, read and take a journey with me at
www.WorldOfShariG.blogspot.com
No comments:
Post a Comment