Hef-zibah’s Story—My 18 Days Battle Continued.

Hef-zibah’s Story—My 18 Days Battle Continued.

You know the saying that you don’t know what you have until it is missing. Well, I then knew that I had a fantastic marriage. Regretfully, I started recalling the trivial things that I’d previously gotten angry over. Like hubby playing video games. If only my husband were here playing video games. I reminisced about my husband’s relentless encouragement. He would often say, Write new songs, practice your guitar, practice your singing, get better. Now, I tried to do those things, but he wasn’t here to see me.

 

Despite all, Lola wouldn’t give up on me. She called me every day for 18 days straight. Every midnight she would call me, and we would pray for hours, each time persuading me to actively participate. My brother-in-law also came through for me. I was stymied in visiting my husband at the hospital, but my brother-in-law would occasionally visit. One time, he put through an audio call where we got the whole family to speak with hubby. And when it got to my turn, I started singing. Slowly and gradually, my husband started to move. He wiggled his toes and finally opened his eyes. The nurse rushed in to check if everything was fine. She stood in amazement. she said, “Do you know how many drugs we have used to sedate him?” She wasn’t expecting him to wake up quite yet. We have used three (3) different sedatives to knock him out, the nurse pointed out. “If he is responding this good, maybe in two or three days he’ll be out of here”. And with that slender glimmer of hope, my heart was strengthened.

 

I hear a different story. Only two days later, the hospital notified me that my husband had gotten worse. I don’t get it. “Are you people conducting an experiment with my husband?” I raged. There is a different thing attacking the lungs, the doctor answered. It’s bacteria; He’s having pneumonia. I wondered what they were doing there at the hospital. How can we bring a patient to the hospital, and he’s getting worse? This is nonsense! “I hollered at my brother-in-law in frustration. I was upset.

 

The next time the doctor called me, I demanded to know what they were doing to my husband. Oh, we ran a test, the doctor replied. “He has a strong cough, which is good, but it is not good for the machine. He is fighting the machine, so he needs to relax”. “Give me the names of the drugs” I insisted as if I knew all about drugs. “I got the names and began researching drugs used on COVID patients.

The hospitals were swamped. On Saturday when my brother-in-law went to visit hubby at Peter Lougheed hospital, the previous one-to-one 1:1 patient/ nurse arrangement had suddenly turned to one nurse to three patients. Next, I hear that they’ve moved my husband to Foothills, the hospital that I initially wanted him taken to. But no one informed me before they moved him. Upon that, they wouldn’t let me see my husband and it is one week now.

At Foothills, the nurse called me as the next of kin with surprise news. She told me they had iPads that patients could use to talk to relatives. I still couldn’t visit – except it was the end of life. I was elated.  I was overjoyed to see my husband ‘virtually’ for the first time after a time that seemed like forever. My husband could barely keep his eyes open when I saw him. He heard my voice and opened it before shutting them again.   ‘’ His lips were as dry as the desert. However, the nurse assured me she’ll take care of him here. I spoke and sang to him for about 30 mins to 1 hour. With the many requests from family, in the following days, we set up a video call with our extended family from Canada, the US, and Nigeria. We all saw him, oh what a heartwarming time!

I received a new report on Tuesday: He might have caught a bug. My husband’s eyes were entirely red-shot. ‘’What is this, how did this happen?” I questioned. The Nurse wasn’t sure.  The nurse thought it might have to do with the move. “I need to speak to a doctor” I demanded. I just want to let you know your husband is doing well. The doctor tried to console me. But the nurse just told me otherwise.  “What is happening there?” I fumed. Oh no, he said, “Looking at it from all his charts, I am telling you he is doing well. We are looking for ways to get him out of Coma. “I need to know the truth, is he doing better or worse?”. My heart was begging for answers.

 

That evening the nurse called me back. Possibly scolded for giving me that information, he said the test came back. My husband did not catch any bug and he’s even virus-free. “You mean, no more COVID virus?” Yeah! Hallelujah! I screamed in excitement. “Can you make an exemption for me to visit now?” I inquired excitedly.  Since my quarantine would end the next day, the nurse said I could come that day. I took that invitation with a grain of salt. I reasoned, why were they suddenly asking me to come? Perhaps it was the end of my husband’s life, and this may be a trick to lure me in to see him. I was afraid.  The doctor called me the following day, reiterating their exception for me to come to visit. Now, aghast, I wondered If I could get myself to visit the hospital.  I eventually summoned the courage to go see my husband that fateful Wednesday. I walked past a room – covered with a transparent curtain- and I couldn’t even recognize my husband’s frame. He was semi-conscious with very many tubes, and wires connected all around him.

 

When I asked to speak to a doctor that Wednesday, I got to speak with a resident doctor since most doctors had left for the day. I asked about the condition of hubby’s health and if there were any hopes of us leaving soon?  The resident doctor said that many patients get to stay in the hospital for three (3) months “What three months?” I lashed out.  I rejected that prophecy. At the hospital that Wednesday evening, however, I was asked to come the next morning if I wanted to see the head doctor. Meanwhile, I and Lola had been praying that my husband would come out, as in, walk out the door by his birthday, Friday just 2 days away. Lola would ask me to point to the door. We prayed that the Lord would order his angels to get him out of the hospital. We said you will walk through this door; you will come back for your birthday.

Thursday was the last day the head doctor watching over my husband since arriving Foothills would be around, so that would be the last chance to see him.  My request was “Please Lord, bring him out of COVID. Eventually, they opened visitation to me from 9 am to 9 pm. Another friend reminded me that there was Wi-Fi at the hospital, and I could work from there since I was working from home. I jumped at that idea. Then there’ll be no excuse not to visit.  I packed my things and left for the hospital. About shortly past 9 am that Thursday morning I was at the hospital, waiting for the doctor to do his rounds. The rounds were delayed. Finally, at 12:00 noon I got to talk to the Doctor.

 

Yet another conflicting report. This time the respiratory therapist informed me that they needed to take my husband off the ventilator, however, the doctor tells me something different.  I felt lied to, so I called my friend in Nigeria. I complained, the doctor says this, and the nurse says this, whose report should I believe?” We shall believe the report of the Lord”. My friend thundered. “His report says your husband is healed; His report says he is well.” Before the doctor came in that day, the respiratory therapist said they tried lowering the ventilator support for my husband, but then he started to cough.  I begged the respiratory therapist to test my husband again, “I’m sure, he will do well”. Well, immediately after the first test, the nurse insisted they change his position.’’ The moment they changed his position, my husband reacted.  His BP started rising and thus they halted the test.

During the rounds later that afternoon, the respiratory therapist reported that they tried to do the test this morning, but he didn’t do well. The doctor said it wasn’t ethical to keep his mouth open for more than 12 days. Seeing that my husband had passed that mark, they planned to do surgery (incision to his throat) the next day. ‘’ Tomorrow is his birthday! It is not the day to cut anybody’s throat’’ I lamented. Then the doctor remarked that I ought to be grateful my husband was still alive as many had died in this situation.

On my way to the hospital Friday the next day, I called the nurse to inform her that I was on my way. She replied, “Just come, nothing is happening for Him today “. In my mind, I said it is a lie. That morning, on Cover2Cover we read of the children of Israel, finally leaving Egypt and I felt that was a sign. Today is his birthday. Something will happen. Surprisingly that Friday on his birthday, a new doctor arrived. This doctor, Dr. Chip was sent from heaven. The doctor empathized, “What can a hospital give to a man on his birthday? Let us try to bring him out of the coma”. There were some hesitations with the new respiratory therapist. However, she later obliged. Anyway, long story short. They planned to do one test. And if he breathes by himself in the three (3) hour test period without any help from the ventilator, they’ll take him out of the coma. Then I asked the respiratory therapist, “What are you looking out for?” “His oxygen needs to be at 96 /94 without the support of the machine.” Right away, this became our new prayer point

Instantly, I sent out words to friends to please pray for my husband ‘’ They are running a test. Please pray, so that they can bring him out today”. In that whirlwind of medical activities, I paced to my husband and held his hands. I whispered to him saying, “You have to relax. Breathe and pass this test, so we can go home. Ok?” He nodded—he could communicate by nodding, blinking, or wiggling his toes.

 

Meanwhile that day, I asked my husband if we should release or pause the song we had previously planned to release on his birthday— I could only ask yes/no questions. The song was a thanksgiving song ‘Exceeding Grace’, I personally thought we should wait until everything was ok.  He gestured that we should carry on with releasing the song. “How will we be praising and singing to God when we were still in the middle of this storm?” It didn’t add up. Anyway, by faith, we released the song.

 

I thank God for the new doctor. He did a great job defending us. I kept watching my husband’s oxygen during the test. After about two hours, I heard the respiratory therapist speaking with the doctor, outside. Saying, he is not doing well. The doctor told her don’t worry. Go ahead and do it. At worst, you will put him back into a coma. Then she complained again saying, it’s usually hard to put a patient back into a coma. “How did you put him in a coma at first? Did he give a problem when he was out at first?” The doctor asked.  She now said no. He didn’t really give many problems. I kept wondering, “Why are they saying the numbers aren’t good. The number seemed fine to me. He was breathing at the 96 mark the respiratory therapist mentioned. It was then that the nurse revealed to me that there were other numbers being looked at. They looked at how deep of a breath, and how long he was breathing for. With the doctor’s order to go ahead, they proceeded to take him out of the coma. At that same instant, a pastor, Rev. Chris Delvan from Kaduna State in Nigeria called my phone.

 

‘’I heard your husband is at the hospital, is he there with you? ‘’ I answered yes. He ordered me to hold his hands. He began to pray. He prayed, declaring that every chain of darkness be taken off him now. Almost at the same time, right before my eyes, all the cords, and tubes that had been wound all over his neck and body were being removed.  The pastor continued” We lose everything off his body. They were now removing the gigantic balloons that they put in his throat. Everything! Ah, it was like deliverance! The respiratory therapist then asked, can you open your eyes? He opened his eyes. Can you say something? In fact, before the completion of the sentence. He screamed “Aaaahhhh”. she asked can you talk to us; He said in a croaky and hoarse voice “Hello”. But that voice was music to my ears. The most beautiful thing I had heard. Before we knew it, my husband’s phone started ringing. Happy Birthday, Happy Birthday. The breathing continued. By the grace of God, he could sustain himself without the ventilator. Glory! Glory! Hallelujah! Praise … the Lord! Hallelujah.

True to Genesis 50:20: As for you, what you intended against me for evil, God intended for good, in order to accomplish a day like this…to preserve the lives of many people.” To God be all the glory! Oh, what a merciful God we serve!

 

Man is prone to error but God does not make mistakes; he will hold fast to His promises. Let’s search them out and use them as keys of the Kingdom of Heaven to petition for the miracles Christ wants to give you and receive them with Thankfulness!

Here are Some of My Takeaways.

Takeaway #1 Praise works wonders

Takeaway #2: Carefully choose your inner circle who can pray with you through a storm

Takeaway #3: God is real, His miracles are real, and His love and mercy are most real!

Takeaway #4Even though he was still in a coma, my husband said let us praise God. Even though we had not seen everything we wanted, he said let us praise God. That is faith

Takeaway #5: Don’t station your faith in God based on the pain and distress of the moment, anchor your faith on the unchanging, inerrant word of God. And locate people who will remind you when you’re swamped in your troubles.

Takeaway #6: Choosing to continue doing what God instructs us even when it bites is proof of our faith in God.

Indeed, I will exalt you, Lord,  for you lifted me out of the depths and did not let my enemies gloat over me. Lord my God, I called to you for help,  and you healed me.

 You, Lord, brought me up from the realm of the dead; you spared me from going down to the pit. Sing the praises of the Lord, you, his faithful people; praise his holy name.

For his anger lasts only a moment, but his favour lasts a lifetime weeping may stay for the night, but rejoicing comes in the morning. (Psalm 30:1-5)

 

Hef-zibah’s Story—My 18 Days Battle Continued.

Hef-zibah’s Story—My 18 Days Battle

It all started in January 2020, right after the cheer of Christmas and the new year. That cold winter day in January, my husband, a loving, decorous, and otherwise healthy husband left for work. The day was like other days. The only difference was that they announced in his office that day, that someone was sick and so everyone including my husband, had to take a COVID test. Two (2) days later, the result came out and my husband broke the unexpected news to me that he tested positive. I paused in shock for a moment. “But you are very healthy and there’s nothing wrong with you” I protested. “How can that be?” I asked incredulously. I assured myself that the hospital must have mixed up the results. I didn’t like the sound of this, but it wasn’t something we couldn’t handle. Maybe my husband was just asymptomatic.

In the days that would follow, my husband started showing flu-like symptoms. Since it was just like the flu, I began giving him juice from the native concoctions of ginger, lemon, garlic, and all sorts. Then, almost like the attack of an armed band, my husband’s health took a severe hit —He got weak, incessantly coughing, and had lots of hiccups interrupting his speech. He started talking like actors in the movies when on their deathbed.

About, two (2) weeks before my husband went for the COVID test; precisely on January 2nd, 2020, the Lord laid in my heart to go through the Bible in a year on YouTube. We call it Cover2Cover. During the study of the Bible character – Job, I had a vivid dream about an evil eye that set out to attack me so that what happened to Job—he lost his possessions—would happen to me. As a result, I planned to make Cover2Cover private but was dissuaded by my husband. “This is God’s work” he interjected, “It needs to go to the ends of the World”. About 2 days after this dream I woke up in the middle of the night to a dark foreboding that my husband was in danger. It was after this dream that his office requested the mandatory test.

I tried anything and everything. While hubby’s health plummeted, I administered my husband the native mixture, and I would have him confess that he would live and not die. I was praying, screaming, crying, pleading, begging—whatever it took. One day, I rolled on the floor, pleading, ‘’Lord, heal my husband! This is not the way to treat people that serve you’’. All day, my husband would sit on the couch, looking up to the roof, and shaking. All attempts to feed or give him water failed. He would stare at me but wouldn’t seem to see me. I was clueless, confused, disoriented, and terrified. One moment he seemed aware of his surroundings, and the next he wasn’t. It got to where his favourite Kirk Franklin songs were a mere nuisance to him. His favourite psalms were no help either. My man’s health spiralled downwards with each passing moment, and I was petrified. So, I did the only next thing.

I made a panic call to our family doctor. The doctor faxed the prescription directly to the pharmacist since I had been exposed and needed to isolate. After receiving the prescription, I hurriedly dispensed two (2) tablets of codeine to my husband as prescribed. My husband slept off immediately like a sleep-deprived child. ‘’ Ah! What a relief! I announced to myself. Finally, I get to rest’’. He slept deep and long. When my husband woke up, he wasn’t only drenched in a cold sweat, but he also woke up a total stranger.

Hubby started acting strange. Next, my husband began hallucinating. He was all shaky and jittery and would fling food off my hand in my attempt to feed him. My heart sank at his cold-eyed stares at me. It frightened me seeing my husband fidgeting, wildly looking around as if he was in a strange place, with incessant painful coughing. The next day, I repeated the same dosage, thinking that he will feel better with more pills.  No, the illness did not subside. Things got worse, and I couldn’t think right.

How could I tell when it was the drugs or my husband speaking? One of those days, hubby dashed into the studio —where I host my morning ‘Cover2Cover’ bible study program— like someone who’ had lost his mind. He rushed in, screaming “Help me, help me!” oh how my heart was crushed at that sight. I abruptly ended the program to attend to my beloved husband. “Can I put my head on your lap?” He cried. When I saw how terrible my husband was looking, I announced to him that I was going to call 911 and they may take him to the hospital.  “Please don’t let them take me. I want to be with you” He pleaded. I wasn’t sure if it was the drug or my husband speaking. One thing I knew though was that whatever we were drinking wasn’t working.

That Saturday night was the scariest. As his wife, I made the executive decision to flout all COVID rules. The rules advised that my husband must sleep in a separate room, not share the same space as me, must not maintain physical contact with him, and required me to pass his meals off to him. It was now obvious that the more I stayed apart from my husband the worse things got. Hence, that night, I packed back into our room. My husband was restless the entire night. No sleeping posture seemed comfortable. We eventually made it through the next morning, but hubby was very weak and unable to stand.  I gave him a warm bath where he soaked up the warm water for about fifteen minutes. That was when I noticed he was coughing blood!

I immediately sent the picture of the blood to our family doctor ‘’I think the dosage isn’t good for my husband,’’ I complained. This was when the doctor revealed that he prescribed 1 – 2 tablets as needed and not the 2 tablets twice daily as received from the pharmacist. This meant he could take 1 tablet in a day or 1 in two days as required. So, I have been giving my husband the wrong dosage all along. I wondered.  ‘’You have given him 4 already today?’’ the doctor interrupted my thought.  ‘’Yes, because the prescription I received said two tablets twice daily,’’ I retorted. ‘’ Do not give him anymore’’. The doctor blurted. After the doctor received and saw his requested cough sample — filled with blood, he asked me to quickly call the ambulance.

When the blaring siren eventually stopped outside my house, I ambled up to the door to let them in. The ambulance team, a female and a male paramedic trotted into the house. ” It is not everybody we attend to because of COVID” The female paramedic announced to me. Next, she bent over to check my husband’s pulse and oxygen level. She observed that his oxygen level was 50 whereas a normal oxygen level is about 97 and above. She summoned her colleague to pass her the oxygen tank. “Do not move sir” She instructed while inserting the oxygen tank into my husband’s nose. They let the reading increase to about 57 before they quit monitoring. “If the oxygen doesn’t go around his body, his organs will start shutting down”. The female paramedic informed me, lifting her eyes to me. I watched, quivering.

They took my husband away from me. The paramedics now informed me they would drive my husband to the hospital, and I couldn’t come along since I had been exposed. “Can you please take him to Foothill’s hospital? ‘’ I implored. “No!” the lady paramedic replied curtly, “We will take him to the nearest hospital and Foothills is not the nearest hospital, we are taking him to Peter Lougheed”. My spirit was very much against the Peter Lougheed Hospital. That I would surrender my husband to total strangers unsettled me. “Will they take care of him properly?”. I already had my preconceived notions about this pandemic. Everything was so emotional for me. However, my husband was brave. He tried to look his best and managed to walk himself to the ambulance. I painfully watched as the paramedics whisked my husband off to the hospital.

The moment they left, I cried and cried. My heart was breaking. “I hope I’ll see my husband again” I pleaded with God, “O God! What did we do? Did it have to come to this?” This shattered my heart in pieces, and I felt all alone.I couldn’t hold myself, so I defied the paramedic’s stern warning to not call until after two hours. After about an hour, I rang my husband, but there was no answer. It was a Sunday morning and since I couldn’t leave the house, I had ample time to cry.  I prayed and cried my eyes out. I was devastated and troubled, so I started making calls to close friends and family members. First, I called my mum and mother-in-law in Nigeria. My mother-in-law was as calm as the smoothest waters. I kept trying to reach my husband, but all my calls met dead silence. I felt panic setting in as I wondered what was going on at the hospital. “I needed to be there”.

In that frustration and sensations of overwhelm, I called a friend, Lola, in Nigeria. Not entirely sure why I did but hmm, Lola was divinely appointed for that time.  she reminded me “You are a worship minister; this is the time to do your ministry”.  “Ok, start singing” Lola persuaded. But there was no song in me. I was in the pit of despair, the darkest and deepest part of it’’ I muttered up a song. A lifeless song on my lips. There was no life or heart as I sang: “Glory be to God in the highest, Amen for His mercies endureth forever Amen” Lola yelled through the phone, “Are you sitting down? Stand up! dance! praise God. Louder! I’m not hearing you!” She kept stimulating me.   Lola stayed with me on the phone, praying fervently with me for an hour.

As if in answer to our heartfelt prayers, my phone rang. It was my husband.  He was still at the emergency, and the network was jammed so as not to interrupt the machine readings. He had been in the emergency and was upset that no one had attended to him. At about 3 pm, the doctor called to give me updates. By the time the doctor finished speaking with me, I found myself on the floor, trembling. The doctor goes “The CT scan shows that your husband’s lungs have been severely infected. This is a critical case, and it could go either way. When it gets to this extent, people usually die. The virus has really damaged his lungs.” He continued “His lungs are not getting enough oxygen, but we will do our best. We will put him on a life support ventilator and then in a coma, and make his lungs stop breathing. Now the ventilator has its own side effects.” The doctor added. “Some people do not take it well.”  My head was spinning. I was like “he cannot die, he will not die. No, not this one.” “I will update you” the doctor finished.

Right after that, I called my pastor and his wife. ‘’ Help me O” I cried, “My husband’s oxygen level is 50”. My pastor’s wife, a medical doctor, screeched. The worst she’s ever seen was 68 or 70 and then the person was in a very critical state. However, my pastor reassured me saying “Don’t worry, don’t worry! Do you have communion? Do you have bread or wine?” He continued. My pastor now started making decrees. “We have a covenant with the Lord that we will not lose anyone to COVID”. “Amen” I declared frantically. I took the communion and felt some consolation.

Sunday evening, a nurse called to inform me that they were giving my husband oxygen. They put him in a special unit to monitor his blood oxygen, and if it elevated to a reasonable level, they would move him to a normal ward. Not after an hour, another doctor called to inform me that they had put my husband in a medically induced coma. “He is on the ventilator, now on life support, prone sleeping position” “Can I speak to him before you do all this?” I asked. The doctor said no as it was an emergency.” What is the assurance that he is going to come out?” I asked. We don’t know, the doctor said. “You don’t know, and you wouldn’t let me speak to him before inducing him? What if he doesn’t come out, and you couldn’t let me speak to him?” I exclaimed as tears flooded my eyes. That night, I woke up looking for my husband beside me. I thought this was all a bad dream. I groaned painfully as I thought of being a widow at such a young age. So, my husband is in a coma! Where will I get another husband? Will a new husband love me as my husband does? Will we be able to do music together? God, save me from this horrid challenge.

Disenchanted, I tried to work and keep my mind intact but then; I had a mental vision of my husband where he gave a loud wail. I instantly fell to the ground shouting: Jesus! Jesus! Over and over. It was like my heart was being ripped out. I called my mum, stressfully contemplating stopping my Cover-to-Cover program. My mom said if you stop then the devil has won. You must keep it on. Therefore, I kept up with the program but could not share publicly what I was going through. I would cry and worship on the program and people would think I was in the spirit, but I was in despair. “This is how God rewards me for wanting to do His will?” At that point, I battered with many thoughts in my head – Is God even real? Where was God when things got out of hand? How did he allow my husband to get into Coma? And now there’s no assurance that he will come out alive. No one knows anything. It was agonizingly alarming!

I started making plans of what I would do if my husband died: I wouldn’t pack anything, I would simply disappear; no one will see me again; neither my parents nor his family, no one! “Maybe this God isn’t even real, maybe these are mere stories. Why will this happen? Where are all God’s promises?”. I was angry with God. Even though I grew up in church and my parents are pastors, I had never felt so alone in my life. I had absolutely nothing to hold on to. Just anger. There was no rhema, no song, no revelation. I felt so much despair. Then I thought about many people who had left the faith. This Christian thing does not work because I prayed many times. And it felt like the more I prayed the worse the sickness got. My 18 Days Mental Battle Continues Here


 

Leukemia Healed And Then My Life Took a Sudden Shift

Leukemia Healed And Then My Life Took a Sudden Shift

Story from Mae in Calgary, Canada

In February 2001, something weird began to happen to me. I was feeling extremely tired but without any physical pains in my body. This continued until the day I and my husband were invited to supper with some other couples. We were in this place when suddenly, everywhere began to look foggy to me. I could hear people talking but couldn’t see anyone. I was conscious of all that was happening around me but could not visualize anyone or objects. Finding this very strange, I told my husband to please take me home immediately.

We dropped by my family doctor, who conducted some initial tests and referred me to a specialist. Within 2 days, they sent me to an Oncologist. I had no clue what an Oncologist was or did. Looking back now, I realized the doctor didn’t tell me what he specialized in and I didn’t bother to ask.  He ran another test withdrawing something from my spine.  After examining the result, he took my hand and without beating about the bush, he said, “ There’s something serious with your blood”  even then I was oblivious.

I was hospitalized immediately and then the lineup of tests began. They drew out so much blood from me while running these tests that I wondered if I had any more blood left. There were series of tests upon tests.The next morning, the doctor announced to me that I had Acute Myeloid Leukemia (Cancer of the blood). ”It was still in the marrow,” the doctor said.  I froze in that moment, startled by the news I’d received. I can’t really explain how I felt but the last thing I thought of was God. All I had was fear. The doctor assured me that he would try to keep the cancer from getting into the blood as it was still in my spine.

Miserable I felt…

After two days, I began my chemotherapy treatments. Miserable is an understatement of what I was feeling. I didn’t feel physically weak but was totally and emotionally wrecked out. The niggling weird feelings were horrible. Then came the depression. I didn’t want to talk to anyone. I wanted to be all alone. The chemo treatments made me very depressed.  Now let me say this, I was born in a Christian home, but wasn’t a practising Christian. I knew nothing about the word of God nor any of His Word related to my health.  I was hooked up to blood work. I had more faith in the doctor than anyone else, so it was a good thing the doctor didn’t want to tell me how sick I was.

Incessant bouts of depression…

After about 5 weeks, the doctor came in and said to me that the treatments were working. The doctor asked me “do you realize how sick you were?”  “I guess not” I responded. “I got you in remission” he continued. He said the treatment is working but there was not a 100% guarantee

I couldn’t control the incessant bouts of depression. I would feel so helpless and worthless. I’d lost all my hair, lost 43 pounds and didn’t want to go home yet. It was about the last weeks when the medications were taken away that I realized how sick I was. Thankfully, some people always came around to pray for me in the Hospital.

I almost died thoughts…

It was after this sickness that the thoughts of that I almost died started coming hard at me. All of a sudden I realized I would have been dead. Even though I didn’t have a relationship with God at the time, I believe He showed me grace and met me at my level. Each time I went to the hospital for treatments, for some strange reason, I’d be impressed to read a certain sign by the roadside. The signs were moving frontlets of bible verses. Each time I passed and read them, I felt as though there was something pulling me to want to come closer to God. Around that time, I heard of this Hawkwood Baptist preacher in Calgary, Bernie Smith. I would go to him and ask him many questions.  I wondered if God would want me back after so many years of turning my back to him. As I learnt about God’s love and mercy towards me, I decided to start going to church and got baptized thereafter. All the fears I had about where I would go after I die gradually dissipated. Before now, I lived in fear not hopeful in this life or where I’d end up in.

As I studied the Word of God, God started giving me his own thoughts. He would direct me “read this, read this”. They were like God actually talking to me. All traces of fear and agitation left me. I had absolute peace.

Reflecting back

I see now that God had been there all along. I had lots of signs in the hospital. God was trying to get my attention but I didn’t know it at the time. God shook me from this sickness to realize it. Perhaps you’re reading this and you don’t really know this Jesus. God is waiting for you to come to Him. Don’t harden your heart!

The ultimate fear

Throughout this period, I had this fear of death. It’s human nature. This is because we were made for eternity according to Ecclesiastes 3:11. That means that we were made for a life beyond this one.  We were made to live eternally. So departing from the earth is not where life ends.

Perhaps you say, no I’ll take my chances. Well, eternity is a loooong time to be wrong. Do you want an eternity of pain and regret? Or an eternity of peace?

Death still remains the biggest problem of man. But there is good news!  There is a solution. Jesus Christ is the solution.  The scriptures say that “ Salvation is found in no one else, for there is no name given on earth by which man shall be saved” Acts 4:12

Jesus went on to say in John 14:6 that  “ I am the way, the truth and the life”. No one comes to the father without Him. The life He gives is a final rest for your soul and a relationship of peace, joy and hope here on earth.

Let’s choose wisely.

God is waiting for you!

I am now 81 years and it has never felt better. It is the same peace I have today. Even If someone tells me that I’ll drop dead in 5 mins I  would not worry at all. I have no doubt God loves me and that I will spend eternity with Him. My life ever since has seen upward motion. Not without challenges though but with ever-increasing victories. I am so glad to present to you this Jesus who helped me from my depressing thoughts. He is the best thing that can ever happen to anyone.

I am so grateful to God that I went through this. The shaking from this cancer helped me find my way to God.

In case you do not know the Lord, here are some resources that may help in your discovery.

I would love to know if this helped you in any way. Please don’t forget to leave a comment and share as well if you were blessed.

God bless you!

How God Healed Leukemia. Appropriating God’s Word in Prayer

How God Healed Leukemia. Appropriating God’s Word in Prayer

 

 I was recently reminded of God’s faithfulness. My prayer partner in Nigeria had been married for Eight years and had been believing God for the fruit of the womb. She finally took in 2016 with some medical help. Some weeks later, she went for a bone marrow test and the doctors told her she had leukemia. She was pregnant with twins and her white blood cell was as high as 75000 each time she did her routine blood work.

“The devil is a liar and will continue to be”, was my thought as I heard this. She sent me and a few others, the doctor’s report. Now, this report shook me down to my core. I was so vexed in my spirit so I immediately went to prayers with her. 

We referred to scriptures like Mark 11: 24  which says “Therefore I tell you, whatever you ask for in prayer, believe that you have received it, and it will be yours” and Deutronomy 7:14 which says You will be blessed more than any other people; none of your men or women will be childless, nor will any of your livestock be without young”.

We believed and concluded the prayer by saying No to the report; It shall not stand. I had to put God’s word before me all through this time and kept confessing God’s word for her.

Some weeks later, when another test was taken,  the blood test came out negative. The moment I heard this, I could only but weep for joy. Glory to God! I refuse to take this testimony lightly —I recall some time ago, someone had told me she had a terminal disease. We did nothing more than routine prayers. Some weeks later, after another blood test, the result remained the same — This time around, I decided I’ll do something differently.

This is huge for me because, in the midst of my imperfections and storms of life, He encouraged me by this; prayer works! God is wonderful! Those who call on the name of the Lord shall be saved. John 10:10 comes to mind here, the devil wanted to STEAL her testimony and her peace, kill her hope and then finally DESTROY her testimony but Jesus has come with an abundance of life for all who will look to Him for life. 

 WHAT I Learned

  •          This being my second experience with a similar situation and I realized, this time I knew exactly what to do. How to persist!  I learned to not be mechanical, but from deep within, to call out to our God of mercy.  And really, from lessons gleaned during my own time of trusting God for the fruit of the womb, I’ve learned to be strategic in my praying.
  •        I learned to never take a negative report lightly; I must always run to God and refute the accusations of the enemy.
  •         God’s word works! What HE says is superior over any other report. I must always hold on to God

 God Bless you!

—Sent in by Lillian, Nigeria 

What has God done for you?  Share your story here