A book about surviving deep suffering and pain with the help of Christ who never leaves us or forsakes us. If you are in the battle of your life, you'll want to read this book. If you are at a point where there is no one to talk to about what you're going through, this will speak to your heart.

The book will be online until it goes to publication in early March.

This book is dedicated to those who have suffered alone.

CHAPTER ONE
What Is to Come

"And after you have suffered for a little while, the God of all grace, who has called you to His eternal glory in Christ, will himself restore, confirm, strengthen, and establish you." (1 Peter 5:10)

When hardships come, your first thought won't be whether you'll pass the test with flying colors. In the depths of suffering, survival is your primary concern. You're just trying to make it to the other side.

Scripture tells us that the goal is to emerge restored, confirmed, strengthened, and established by the Lord. But getting from brokenness to restoration isn't always easy. We can fight our way through, or we can step into the vessel of suffering that God provides, trusting Him to navigate the unknown waters. It is a journey that our flesh resists, but if we surrender, it will lead us to new ground—a place of wisdom and authority where we can guide others through their trials.

No one teaches us how to suffer, yet we all do. Everyone has faced loss, grief, physical pain, depression, anxiety, or seasons of darkness. It might be the loss of a job or a loved one, a personal tragedy, a sudden disability, or the breakdown of a marriage. Suffering is universal.

And no one teaches us how to endure. You've likely had times when you thought you wouldn't make it through because the burden was too great. You keep hoping things will change, but they don't—sometimes for months or years. I understand this intimately. I endured an extended period of intense physical and emotional pain, preceded by years of sickness. For days, weeks, and months on end, I felt trapped with no escape.

What I didn't realize at the time was that God was doing deep work within me, cultivating fruit that only grows in the crucible of suffering. He was shaping Christ's image in me, using my pain so that when I emerged, I could help others find their way through. Suffering was the tool He used to refine my character and transform my heart, a work that can only happen under extreme pressure.

The pit I was in felt endless—deep, dark, and inescapable. Yours may be different, but when you're in it, it always seems insurmountable. There is no one at the top with a rope. No one hears your cries for help. You are trapped, and your only hope is God. And so, you wait. That is all you can do.

In my suffering, I found Jesus in a way I never had before. His Word became my lifeline, encouraging me to press on. I found solace in biblical figures who had suffered far worse and remained faithful, emerging like gold refined by fire. They cried out for help, clung to God's integrity, and discovered that He does not let go.

I learned that the answer to every problem is not only seeking the Lord's comfort while He works out solutions but renewing my mind with His Word and believing with unwavering faith that His promises are true.

God sets apart those who belong to Him, and suffering is one way He does this. It draws us closer, stripping away our reliance on self and deepening our dependence on Him. It is a painful process, but in hindsight, it can become one of the most transformative times in our spiritual lives.

I want to share what I have learned—about suffering, endurance, and God's faithfulness. I invite you to come with me on this journey, to navigate the river of affliction in a way that leads to deeper trust in Him.

"Who comforteth us in all our tribulation, that we may be able to comfort them which are in any trouble, by the comfort wherewith we ourselves are comforted of God." (2 Corinthians 1:4)

CHAPTER TWO

My affliction

"When thou passest through the waters, I will be with thee; and through the rivers, they shall not overflow thee: when thou walkest through the fire, thou shalt not be burned; neither shall the flame kindle upon thee." (Isaiah 43:2}

I am going to tell you my story. But I don't want you to focus on me or what I suffered, but on Jesus, the author and finisher of our faith. I tell you this because you need to know that I understand what Corrie Ten Boom meant when she said, "There is no hole so deep that God is not deeper yet."

My affliction began slowly and escalated for several years and then lingered on as I sought God for healing and relief.

It started with cancer. A grueling surgery resolved that, and after I recovered, no further treatment was necessary. It was unsettling and scary and I thought I'd seen the worst that life could bring. So I celebrated when it ended, thinking I was home free.

Not long after that, I woke up and wasn't able to walk without tremendous pain in the front of my legs, which was eventually diagnosed as Poly Myalgia Rheumatica. My doctor didn't know what was wrong with me. Eventually, he put me on prednisone, which alleviated the pain.

Then my marriage fell apart (after years of struggle) and my husband and I separated. Then one of my daughters decided she didn't much like me anymore. She never really explained why, but she was angry at me and yelled at me when we talked on the phone.

Right after that, I got very ill and was in bed for almost two months. During that time, I had a drug reaction to a prescription that the doctor gave me for that illness. An allergic reaction to that landed me in the hospital. The doctors had to restart my heart because it was beating at over 200 beats per minute and they were afraid I'd stroke out. I left the hospital the next day learning that I now had atrial fibrillation to add to my list of problems.

Restarting my heart caused my body to go into some weird autoimmune reaction, which made me quite sick. After that, I went on heart medication that made me suicidal. I would wake up in the morning thinking of ways to kill myself, which scared me to death. I battled that day after day, not knowing when I might give in, but after two months, I figured out that I wasn't suicidal—it was the drugs that were telling me to kill myself. I was relieved to know that I hadn't lost my mind.

Right around that time, I took a fall outside my office and landed on my knees, doing some nerve damage to my left leg and dislocating my big toe. That kept me off my feet for three weeks and it was months before the feeling came back into my leg. Soon after that, I became extremely fatigued and was sleeping a lot during the day—I was even shutting and locking my office door at work and taking naps because I could not stay awake. I just didn't feel good and nothing seemed to make my fatigue any better. My doctor didn't know what was wrong with me. She thought maybe I was depressed, but I begged to differ.

I did my best during that time to call out to God. Some days I screamed out, especially when I was riding in my car. "Do you see me, God? Do you hear me? Will you help me?" But most times the echoes came back empty, and I felt no relief.

As an act of my will, I chose to believe that God was with me. All I had was my faith — the sweet presence of God was gone and so was the freedom you feel when things are going well. When I prayed, I hit a steel wall.

But I had the Word of God, which I began scouring like a rat dog digging up a rat hole in the backyard. I dug and every verse that spoke to me I put down in my log of verses. In the end, I had four files representing four years of scriptures, maybe three hundred in total, that spoke to me while I was in the fire. To this day, I often go through them to see what God was speaking to me.

But God was not absent. One day, when things were so messed up, I was sitting and weeping in my chair and the presence of God filled the room. For almost six hours, the Holy Spirit spoke to me, comforted me, and wiped away my tears. Then He left and I was jolted back to my earthly life. But I was more depressed than I was before He arrived. But those six hours were in some ways life-changing for me because they affirmed that, yes, God was with me and He could show up in the darkest times.

My husband and I were still separated, and I saw no hope for my marriage. We were at the stage of contempt and I didn't know how to fix it. We tried a Christian counselor, but she didn't include God in her counseling, so we left her. We decided that all that was left was prayer, so we dedicated ourselves to praying on the phone three times a week and asking God to do a miracle and save our marriage.

Then I developed severe pain in both knees and learned that I needed two knee replacements. Walking up stairs was impossible and walking down was even worse. I bought a lift chair so I could even get out of a chair without crying out in pain. I had been taking prednisone for my leg pain and it helped the knees a little, but not much really.

Soon after, my situation with my daughter became more difficult. I didn't know what I'd done to enrage her, and she wouldn't tell me. After counseling from a pastor, I pulled away and cut off contact as gently as I could because I could not bear the pain of this dysfunctional relationship any longer. I didn't know if I'd ever see her again and it was looking quite possible that I wouldn't.

I decided that it was time to retire, which was devastating because I loved working. But I could barely get dressed or even walk from my car into my office. I had no choice.

By this time, I'd been on prednisone for two and a half years for the leg pain. After being on it for so long, I was advised to wean off it, which took almost six months. When I was done, two things happened. First, I was in more severe knee pain and I could hardly get out of a chair, and walking at all was sometimes near impossible. Second, I could not stay awake and I was sleeping about 20 hours a day. My body went into a deep sleep.

And then a wonderful, unexpected, miraculous thing happened! God healed my marriage and my husband returned home. Our relationship was better than when we first married and, to top it off, God made peace between my daughter and me. So while living in this dark pit, splendid victory came, and while it soothed my heart, it didn't make the physical suffering any less.

By now, a minor case of psoriasis had become a very large case that covered about 65% of my body, causing me great distress. It made it impossible to get knee replacements as they would not do surgery on me if I had psoriasis on my leg and I could not take a biologic as I have a severe reaction to many drugs and I didn't dare chance it.

My adrenal glands had somehow been damaged by the prednisone and my cortisol levels tanked. I saw a naturopath who treated me with adrenal supplementation and that helped some, but I spent most of my days in a sort of coma, either asleep, half-asleep, or in a foggy haze that was like living in a twilight zone that wasn't connected to life. I could not handle stress. Every minor problem became a reason to sit and weep. Any small amount of stress sent me over the edge, sometimes for days. Then I would have to sleep for several more days to recover.

Soon I could barely hold my balance if I walked, and I was afraid of falling, so I pretty much gave up going anywhere.

Sitting took a toll on my body and both my shoulders froze. Then I got nerve pain in my elbows and muscle pain in my hands. I developed osteoarthritis on my wrists and fingers and all fine motor skills disappeared. I could not open a door or a can or pick up a penny. Taking a shower and trying to dry myself was excruciating. I could not use my hands or wrists at all. Lifting a bath towel, even a very light waffle cotton one, caused severe pain. Typing was also severely painful and I couldn't play the piano. So, I couldn't bend over, use my arms or hands, lift anything, walk, or pretty much move at all. After I did anything, even something very quick like taking a shower, I'd have to take a three to four-hour nap to recover.

Just to make it even more fun, I developed pain in my feet. My toes became hammer toes because my knees were so bad that I became unstable on my feet and my toes hammered to try to stabilize me. My ankle bones kept nudging out of joint, so walking became scary.

I experienced great body weakness. I thought that the weakness was a part of the four autoimmune diseases I had and the inflammation in my knees and joints. I didn't much worry about it because the pain and the fatigue were enough to think about.

If I went anywhere, I would become so weak I could not hold my body up. Or I became dizzy and lightheaded and would have to sit down. I didn't go anywhere because I never knew if I could make it home if I did. I couldn't cook because I couldn't hold up my body long enough to cook a meal. And the icing on the cake was that I developed an ulcer and bloated stomach from all the NSAIDs I took for all the pain I had.

I dreaded the mornings when showering and dressing myself and putting on socks were extremely difficult. Shoes were doable, but not by much. I developed sciatica and lower back pain and it seemed as if my whole body was giving out. And just to make it more interesting, I became severely depressed and developed unbearable moment-by-moment anxiety like I'd never experienced in my life. At one point, I told my husband that he might have to commit me because I might lose my mind. The thought scared me to death.

I prepared for a life that would apparently end in suffering or death and maybe quite quickly. I began cleaning out my closets and drawers in spurts of five minutes at a time, as I could not handle the pain of working longer than that, but I pushed through because I didn't want to leave my husband with this job if I died. Looking back, I have no idea why that was important to me at the time, but preparing for death became my job.

I bought a book called I'm Dead, Now What? and started filling out the many pages of personal information and requests should I die. For much of the information the book wanted, I wrote, "It's on my phone," so my husband would know where my passwords and other information were. What I didn't know at the time and later found out from my doctor (2 years later) was that I was slowly dying and I wasn't going to live much longer if something didn't change.

In 2020, Covid hit. I was still calling out to God and standing on the promises, but I was nearly falling off the cliff.

My world had fallen apart, and I was barely functional other than to get dressed and sit in a chair all day as I watched the world around me fall apart. I prayed on and off most of the day and felt worthless and unable to fend for myself or even get up and run if I needed to. And it seemed to me that the way the world was going at some point, I would need to run!

I watched the world continue its downward spiral on YouTube and lived in acute anxiety, which I later found out was caused by a medical problem, but by then it had been going on for over a year and I was exhausted by it. I was overwhelmed, overcome, and overwrought.

And as Job said:

For the thing that I fear comes upon me, and what I dread befalls me. (Job 3:25)

I had always wondered if one day my life would fall apart, just as my childhood family had fallen apart, and strangely enough, it did.

And then something crazy and miraculous happened.

One day, just out of the blue, Jesus appeared at the top of that great, awful pit I told you about, threw me a rope, and pulled me out.

And mind you, I had nearly given up hope. I was waiting to die, and I was ready to go. My house had been cleaned out, and my book of last wishes had been filled out should I die. My family was now restored and they could live without me. Everything was set up perfectly for my death.

But God had other plans.

He said, "I'm not done with you yet," and He yanked me out of that hole.

CHAPTER THREE

I can't do this.

That, in a nutshell, is what happened. But what's even more important is what God did as a result of my suffering—how He changed my life, transformed my character, and healed my soul in ways I never imagined. I cannot pinpoint the exact moment He changed me, but I do know this: I emerged from my trial a very different person.

More importantly, during my time of suffering, God revealed His character and His ways to me. That revelation of the Holy deepened my love for Him in ways I never thought possible.

"I have heard of Thee by the hearing of the ear, but now mine eye seeth Thee." (Job 42:5)

It is one thing to know about God from reading the Bible or hearing sermons, but it is something entirely different to encounter Him personally amid a trial. To see Him show up when no one else can help, to know that every word He speaks is true, and to realize that no one in this universe is greater or more powerful than He—is life-changing. Even more humbling is the realization that apart from Him, we can do nothing.

The first lesson I learned in my trial was that I was completely helpless without Him. I wanted nothing more than to escape my suffering by any means possible, but I soon found that I lacked the strength to do so. My situation required a level of faith I had never exercised before.

We deceive ourselves into believing that we can manage life in our strength. Sometimes, we even convince ourselves that we are operating in God's strength when, in reality, we are relying on our abilities. But when God removes every earthly crutch and when He places us in circumstances beyond our control, we come to understand the truth of Acts 17:28: "For in Him we live, and move, and have our being."

Much of what we do in life is done in our wisdom and strength, often without even realizing it. The American church has not suffered in the way that the persecuted church has, where believers must depend on God for their very survival. They have learned to trust Him in ways we can't fathom. But when everything we depend on is stripped away—especially our resourcefulness and strength—only then do we truly begin to move in God's power.

"The heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked: who can know it?" (Jeremiah 17:9)

For most of my life, I believed I was strong enough to endure anything. I was wrong. My trial revealed the stark truth: I had to rely completely on God. I had always thought I trusted Him, but now I saw how much I had depended on my strength.

I couldn't will my body to heal. My knees and legs were failing me, my psoriasis was worsening, and my strength was diminishing. Some days, I could barely move. No amount of willpower could change my reality. I was weak, and now I knew it in a way I had never known. I had no way through unless God delivered me. If He chose to. And that was the terrifying part—I didn't know if He would.

"Many are the afflictions of the righteous: but the Lord delivereth him out of them all." (Psalm 34:19)

Yet, my pastor's wife once told me that God doesn't always deliver us from all afflictions. I chose to believe God's Word instead. I dismissed her discouragement and counted her among Job's "miserable comforters."

"I have heard many such things: miserable comforters are ye all." (Job 16:2)

If you are suffering, you will likely encounter a few miserable comforters of your own. People who have never faced deep affliction will say things that, though well-meaning, only deepen your pain. They may suggest that your suffering is due to sin, a lack of faith, or a failure to trust God. They intend to encourage you, but instead, they leave you deflated. My advice? Smile, ignore them, and wait for the person whom God will send—someone who truly understands.

I knew many people lived with chronic conditions they never recovered from, and I feared that might be my fate. But that didn't stop me from praying. I asked for healing again and again, and as time passed, I grew bolder in my asking. Eventually, I resolved not to stop until I received an answer—whatever it was.

I don't know where that boldness came from. Perhaps it was desperation, or perhaps it was a gift from the Lord. But I discovered a strength within me that was neither physical nor emotional—it was spiritual. It came from God, from His Word, and prayer. "…they that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength." (Isaiah 40:31)

At first, I didn't recognize this new strength. It grew slowly, but I learned to depend on it rather than my flesh. This inner strength was a gift from God, a ray of sunlight in a very dark time. It became the greatest blessing He had ever given me, though I didn't realize it at the time.

My affliction unfolded over twelve years, with the last six being the most severe. It began with cancer, then knee pain, and then my husband left. The pain in my legs worsened, my psoriasis escalated, and I became weaker and weaker until some days, I could barely move. Then my husband returned, but my condition deteriorated. The final six years were the darkest, culminating in complete weakness—until God healed me.

The suffering came in waves, each one more intense than the last. Just as I adjusted to one hardship, another would crash over me. I call it a "pile-on." With each wave, I faced not only physical pain but emotional and spiritual turmoil. I fought discouragement and battled despair. But in the midst of it all, God was at work.

When God places you in the fire of affliction, the only way out is through Him—and in His time. No amount of reasoning, pleading, or struggling will shorten your trial. I learned this the hard way.

In the beginning, I prayed constantly, but God's response was not what I wanted to hear:

"For you have need of endurance, so that when you have done the will of God you may receive what is promised." (Hebrews 10:36, ESV)

"Not only that, but we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope." (Romans 5:3-4, ESV)

I didn't want to hear about endurance. I wanted to hear that my suffering would soon be over. But God had other plans.

I also discovered that I lacked hope. How had I lived as a Christian for fifty years without realizing this? I needed hope to sustain me, yet I found myself without it.

CHAPTER FOUR
This is Not Going to Be Easy"But they who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings like eagles; they shall run and not be weary; they shall walk and not faint." (Isaiah 40:31 ESV)

That scripture kept coming up during my difficult times, almost as if God were reminding me over and over. I was waiting for my knees to heal, hoping God would miraculously take away my arthritis and restore my ability to walk. I waited for the strength to leave the house, to go anywhere without the fear of falling. For two years, I didn't even go to the store because I couldn't muster the strength to push a cart. I also waited for the strength to hold myself up long enough to cook dinner for my husband. So, I waited. And waited some more.My life seemed to revolve around waiting for something miraculous while I struggled with feelings of dread, hopelessness, and uselessness.

There's a spiritual battle that comes with affliction because the devil takes every opportunity to strike during our trials. He knows our weaknesses and will test us relentlessly. For me, hopelessness and a sense of uselessness were my kryptonite, and I felt like I was drowning in them most days. This dark cloud hovered over me, and I fought it with prayer and the support of friends and my husband. At times, prayer would lift the burden, but it always returned, targeting a fragile part of my identity in Christ.

This battle, this internal fight, persisted through years of affliction, but it eventually led me on a deeper journey to understand not only who I was in Christ, but also what Christ thought of me. The truth, however, is that the devil will always be there, poking at your weaknesses during your trials. You'll have to armor yourself spiritually and fight back, learning to recognize the lies he tells you. For me, it was always a matter of praying: "Show me the truth, Lord, and reveal the lie the enemy is trying to feed me." Sometimes the attack came in the form of emotions I couldn't even name, and I needed God to help me understand and release them.

Learning to release negative emotions became its own project. It was a lesson I had to learn because I didn't know how to let go of my burdens. Phrases like "let go and let God" meant nothing to me because no one explained the practical side of it. It took years of practice before I understood how to truly lay my burdens down. But releasing negative emotions? That was even harder.

When you're sick, especially when you're deeply ill, depression is an unwelcome side effect. It becomes an additional battle to stay afloat amidst the emotional weight. With the spiritual warfare around me, some days I was too exhausted to keep fighting. On those days, I gave in and allowed myself to rest. I would sleep most of the day, and by late afternoon, the fatigue would lift, and I'd feel better. But my body was weary, and fatigue only deepened the depression. What I desperately needed was to renew my strength and find a life that even resembled what it used to be. I didn't want to be the person who needed constant care. I wanted to be able to tie my shoes without feeling exhausted or take a shower without needing a nap afterward. So, I waited—because God told me to. I could write a book just about waiting. It's in the waiting that God does His work. When He says, "Be still and know that I am God," He is inviting us to release our burdens, to rest in Him, and to trust in His control.

I struggled with that stillness. It's difficult to clear your mind and focus on God when the world is pulling at you in a thousand directions. But slowly, through constant practice, I learned how to lay down my worries. It took time, but eventually, I could rest in God's presence and allow His peace to wash over me.

Psalm 37 tells us to be still before the Lord and wait patiently for Him. When I was vulnerable during sickness, I struggled with fretting. Yet, God's Word reminded me that fretting leads to evil, and I needed to rest in His promises. I embraced this project of waiting, hoping that if I meditated on His Word long enough, I would experience His renewal.

"I wait for the Lord, my soul waits, and in His word I hope; my soul waits for the Lord more than watchmen for the morning" (Psalm 130:5-6 ESV).

As I waited, I became a watchman—always looking, always waiting, and seeking God's presence. Just as a watchman looks for enemies, I learned to watch for Jesus. I had to die daily to myself, giving up my dreams and desires so that Christ could fully live through me. Being ill offered me no distractions. My focus had to be entirely on Christ, and over time, I realized that my suffering, though painful, was truly a blessing.

After a while, the scriptures began to resonate in new ways, especially as I began to recognize the goodness of the Lord amid suffering. It's easy to speak about God's goodness when life is good, but when you're suffering, that goodness reaches deeper, and it gives you the strength to endure. I learned that I could still be strong in faith, even when my body was weak.

Psalm 62 tells us that God is our rock, salvation, and fortress, and He will not let us be shaken. Though I had been shaken by my trials, God showed me that He was my fortress—a place I could run to for refuge from my fears and anxieties. Through it all, I had learned to trust in Him and acknowledge Him in all my ways, knowing He would direct my path and ultimately bring healing.

Though I didn't know it at the time, God was doing a deeper work in my heart. As painful as it was, He was removing what wasn't of Him and teaching me to depend on Him alone. I learned that waiting on God, though difficult, was the key to finding healing, peace, and strength.

"Rejoice in hope, be patient in tribulation, be constant in prayer." (Romans 12:12)

Hope was essential, yet I had none. And so, God began to produce it in me. He was shaping my character, molding my heart to reflect Christ.

The journey was long and painful, but in the end, I saw the fruit of my suffering. My faith became unshakable. My hope became secure. My endurance strengthened me for whatever lay ahead. How did it happen? I clung to God's Word, trusted, obeyed, and waited. And in time, my suffering bore fruit.

And then came the next lesson—the one I least wanted to learn: I would have to wait on God. I would have to wait for His timing, His rescue, and His work to be completed in me.

It was the last thing I wanted to hear—but it was exactly what I needed.

CHAPTER FIVE
Do I Have To?

Looking back on the past six or seven years, it's hard to put everything into words. The events of those years seem to blend into one overwhelming block of time, a blur with no clear lines, making it difficult to revisit and talk about.

What surprised me most during that time was the absence of joy, happiness, or contentment. Instead, I felt constantly overwhelmed and defeated. It's tough to admit, but it's the truth.

I had always thought that if I endured suffering, God would reward me with His joy, and I would be able to face it with a sense of calm. But that wasn't how it went. Instead, I experienced some of the darkest emotions I've ever known and a loneliness I hadn't anticipated.

I also expected that God would show up in a visible, discernible way every day, filling me with peace amidst my suffering. But that wasn't the case either. While there were moments when His presence was real, especially in prayer, it was often brief and didn't last long enough to ease the weight of my daily struggles.

The mystics referred to this time as the "dark night of the soul." It's called that because it feels like a time of utter darkness. For a long while, I felt as though I was walking through life blindfolded—though, technically, I was stuck in a chair since I couldn't walk much. There was little for me to hold onto except my faith in Jesus. Yet, even then, He often seemed distant, not always offering the comforting touch I had hoped for. I knew He was there, but I wasn't always aware of His presence.

The loneliness was deafening. It's a feeling I haven't experienced in quite the same way, except once in my youth, and I had hoped never to feel it again. It wasn't that I lacked people around me—my husband and friends from church were there—but in my heart, I was alone. No one could truly understand my sorrow or the depths of my pain. Proverbs 14:10 said, "The heart knows its own bitterness and a stranger does not share its joy." Indeed, no one else can fully grasp the weight of our pain or the heights of our joy. These are burdens we carry alone. Scripture encouraged us to bear one another's burdens, but it also reminded us in Galatians 6:5 that "each one must carry his own load."

For me, that load was the profound loneliness I felt. No matter how much I tried, I couldn't express that loneliness in a way anyone could truly understand unless they had been through it themselves. There was one friend who seemed to get it, but even she couldn't lessen the aloneness that pervaded my heart.

At first, I tried to explain my suffering to my friends, hoping someone would reach out and comfort me. Though a few did their best, it wasn't enough to dispel the darkness. I longed for someone to rescue me, explain what I was going through, give me a roadmap, and walk alongside me. But no one did.

In the midst of it all, I turned to the Lord in prayer. I searched the scriptures for answers, for comfort, and especially for encouragement, knowing that my suffering might last a long time. There were moments when scripture spoke deeply to me, lightening my load, but the heaviness would return, and I found myself searching for answers all over again.

At the time, I thought my anxiety and depression were purely emotional. But as I later discovered, I was also dealing with medical issues that contributed to my mental struggles. No amount of comfort or understanding could fully ease what I was going through. My doctor had told me it was simply depression, not something physically wrong, and though I didn't believe her, it was hard to ignore the fact that I couldn't shake it.

I don't have a depressive personality. Anyone who knows me knows that I'm generally an upbeat person. I've always believed in maintaining a positive attitude, especially during tough times, and I've faced many challenges in my life. But now, I was up against something that couldn't be conquered by willpower alone. I had to wait it out and trust in God's timing.

I had to wait for God to deliver me.

The physical pain was bad enough. From the tips of my toes to the top of my neck, I hurt all over. I could barely move my legs, arms, or hands. I was limited in so many ways, and some weeks, the only time I left the house was for Bible study—if I even made it to that. During the pandemic, we switched to Zoom, which made it easier to stay connected with my friends, but when I had to drive to church, it was often a struggle just to get out of the house. To be physically handicapped and mentally trapped in a state of torment was more than I could bear.

Psalm 4:3 says, "But know that the LORD has set apart the godly for himself; the LORD will hear when I call to him." I had read that verse many times before, thinking I understood it, but it wasn't until I found myself in the pit that I began to see it in a new light.

Why would God set me apart in such a painful, isolating way? What was He trying to accomplish in my life by allowing me to endure such suffering? Even now, it's painful for me to reflect on that time because it was the darkest period of my life. I struggled to understand why I was so weak, so sick, and in so much pain. Why had God allowed this?

Surprisingly, though, I don't think I ever actually asked God why. I had walked with Him long enough to know that He works all things together for good for those who love Him, as Romans 8:28 says. I had seen that truth play out in my life countless times. I trusted Him, and I loved Him. I had given my life to Him, and so I didn't feel the need to ask why. I could only cry out, "Help!"

The second part of Psalm 4:3 says, "The LORD will hear when I call to him." That became my guiding instruction during this time. I called out to God, not in half-hearted pleas, but with all of my heart, because I knew that when we seek Him with our whole hearts, we will find Him (Jeremiah 29:13).

God's promise to the Israelites was that He would deliver them from Babylon. And in my heart, I believed that if He had done that for them, He would certainly do it for me, because He shows no partiality. In the meantime, He would have to sustain me, because I was too weak to sustain myself.

"For I, the LORD your God, hold your right hand; it is I who say to you, 'Fear not, I am the one who helps you'" (Isaiah 41:13 ESV)

I had two goals: to allow God to sustain me and to wait for His deliverance. He had already told me that I needed endurance, so I suspected my deliverance would take time. My days were long and painful, and the nights seemed to never end, but I knew God would come through. I trusted that, as He had never failed me before, He would not fail me now; no matter how much harder this trial was than anything I'd experienced before. I was determined to hold on to Him, His word, His faithfulness, and His loving-kindness, no matter the outcome.

I came to realize that this journey with God would take however long it took. There was no escape until He said it was over. God had set me apart for a purpose, and I had to accept that this was the path He had chosen for me.

The thing about faith is that you don't truly know how much you have until you need it. When times are good, it's easy to think you have faith. But when the tough times come, that's when your faith is truly tested. I thank God that He had prepared me for this trial, and I knew that I had enough faith to endure. I believed that when this was over, my faith would be stronger, and more precious than gold refined by fire (1 Peter 1:7).

Above all, I was thankful that God had gone ahead of me, preparing me for this trial, and I knew I could trust Him to bring me through. Spiritually, I was ready, and though I didn't understand everything, I knew I could cry out like the psalmist: "When my heart is overwhelmed, lead me to the rock that is higher than I" (Psalm 61:2).

That rock is Jesus Christ, and I knew that if I stood on that rock, I would rise above my enemies (Psalm 27:6). I had to hold on to Jesus, let Him sustain me, and trust Him to lead me where He wanted me to go. There were days when I was afraid of where this journey would take me, but I had the faith to believe that God would use this trial for my good. I didn't know how or when, but I believed He would.

The hardest part was holding steady in that belief, no matter how I felt or what happened.

CHAPTER SIX

This is the worst

At the beginning of this story, I promised to share how God healed me. And I will. I will tell you what He healed and what He allowed to remain. But it's not yet time for that part of the story. However, I can share this: on November 8, 2021, God spoke to me. He told me He would send an angel to heal me, and when the angel came, I could ask him any questions I had, and he would answer me. Just as God had healed me from rape at age 25 (a story I have shared on the video page on my website at www.strategiesforovercomers.com), He assured me that He would heal me of my afflictions.

God also told me that He had chosen me before I was born, that His hand had always been upon me, and that He had given me a love for the truth because I would need it. He promised that He had made provisions for me, both now and in the future and that my husband and I would lead many to the light of Christ, restoring them to Jesus.

But the strangest thing He said to me was this: "Cling to me the way a dryer sheet clings to clean laundry. You will need to cling to me in the days that come." That imagery made me laugh, but I understood exactly what He meant.

My healing began in October 2023, two years after God's promise. In the meantime, I focused on clinging to Jesus. That, in itself, was a full-time job. But beyond that, I faced struggles that tormented me, challenges that plague anyone who finds themselves often in the depths of despair.

It is often said that it is not what happens to us that hurts us, but how we react to it. I had believed that for a long time, striving not to react negatively to life's difficulties. But this particular battle I faced triggered every single trauma I had ever experienced.

Not only was I dealing with an illness that no doctor had been able to diagnose, but I was also severely handicapped. I could barely walk or stand. By the time I met my angel, I could only stand at the stove for five to ten seconds before nearly collapsing. Cooking and household tasks became impossible.

Worse yet, every fear, doubt, and insecurity I had ever battled surfaced. I felt smothered by darkness and overwhelmed by defensiveness, anger, frustration, hopelessness, and despair. Many days, I felt crazy, anxious, depressed, and insecure. Now, mind you, these came and went as God did give me times of relief, but they were my constant companions during those years.

Grief consumed me. I grieved the life I once had, the job I had lost and the freedom stolen by my disability. I grieved my aloneness, my sense of abandonment, and the feeling that my life had ended. But grief alone was not my battle—I had to make sense of it.

Someone recently asked me how I got out of that pit, and I had to think about it. The pit wasn't just my sickness and disability; it was the overwhelming emotions that buried me. I don't know if this will help anyone else, but I can share what I did while I waited.

I categorized my battles: as physical, emotional, mental, and spiritual. I realized I could do nothing about the physical struggles—only God could heal those. That left me with emotional, mental, and spiritual battles. After much prayer, God revealed that I needed to start with the spiritual battles first.

For the first time in my life, I mapped out my struggles on paper. At the center was me. Surrounding me were my physical problems. To the left and right were my emotional and mental struggles. Beyond that, I identified my spiritual battles. I prayed for discernment to separate my struggles from the enemy's attacks. God showed me that fear was the worst of my spiritual struggles, so I began there.

I turned to the Blue Letter Bible and conducted a word search on fear. I printed out scriptures that resonated with me and studied them diligently. I meditated on them until I truly understood fear—how it comes, what it does, and how to overcome it. Eventually, I felt strong enough to speak to my fear and command it to leave in Jesus' name. I read those scriptures over and over until the fear finally broke.

I practiced this exercise daily, sometimes multiple times a day. Some days I won. Some days I lost. But I was moving forward.

When I gained ground over fear, I turned my focus to my identity in Christ. I had believed I was sick, lonely, defeated, useless, and worthless. But I studied what God says about me. I immersed myself in scripture, challenging the enemy's lies with the truth. I refused to settle for feeling worthless. I fought back. And little by little, my mind was renewed.

This was not easy work. But I discovered something profound: Spiritual attacks often manifest as emotions. When fear, worthlessness, anxiety, or worry come, they first appear as temptations. They bite us, hoping we will grab hold of them and make them our own. But we have a choice. We can reject them before they take root.

Jesus said in Mark 4:24, "Be careful what you hear." We must be mindful of what we allow into our minds and what we choose to embrace. I learned to say, "No thanks. Not today," when fear knocked at my door. I reminded myself of 2 Timothy 1:7: "For God did not give us a spirit of fear, but of power, love, and self-control." If God did not give me a spirit of fear, who did? The answer was clear.

I applied this same strategy to every negative emotion. One by one, I challenged them with the Word of God. Slowly, I emerged from the spiritual oppression that had plagued me for those years.

Victory did not come overnight. Some battles were won quickly, but deeply ingrained patterns took time to break. However, as I fought and clung to Jesus, God renewed my mind. The emotional weight of my sickness and disability lightened.

Now, I understand that this was part of the work God wanted to do in me. He allowed me to endure these trials so I could share what I learned with others. If you are suffering, know this: Every negative emotional pattern in your life will surface during affliction, and it will not leave until you deal with it.

But take heart. God gives us marching orders:

"For though we may be living in the flesh, we are not fighting after the way of the flesh(For the arms with which we are fighting are not those of the flesh, but are strong before God for the destruction of high places); Putting an end to reasonings, and every high thing which is lifted up against the knowledge of God, and causing every thought to come under the authority of Christ." (2 Corinthians 10:3-5 BBE)

During my time in the pit, this was my work. As time passed, I could echo David's words: "He lifted me out of the watery pit, out of the slimy mud. He placed my feet on a rock and gave me secure footing." (Psalm 40:2)

It saddens me to tell you some of these things because I can't give you an easy or simple answer that makes all this neat and clean. It wasn't neat and clean. It was a battle all the way and as victories were won, new challenges emerged. I want to say that I called out to God, and He came to my rescue and lifted me from my despair and made everything ok, just like that. But he didn't. Not at first. He did not wave his magic wand and restore everything that I had lost. He did not pull me out of the pit, brush me off, and tell me that everything was ok. But I will tell you what he did.

He sustained me: "I laid me down and slept; I awaked; for the Lord sustained me." (Psalm 3:5)

He often comforted me: "Shew me a token for good; that they which hate me may see it, and be ashamed: because thou, Lord, has holpen me, and comforted me." (Psalm 86:17)

He was my strength: "The Lord is my rock, and my fortress, and my deliverer; my god, my strength, in whom I will trust; my buckler and the horn of my salvation, and my high tower." (Psalm 18:2)

He listened to me: "I cried unto the Lord with my voice, and he heard me out of his hold hill." (Psalm 3:4)

He taught me: "I have not departed from thy judgments: for thou hast taught me." (Psalm 119:102)

He loved me: "The Lord hath appeared of old unto me, saying, Yea, I have loved thee with an everlasting love: therefore with loving kindness have I drawn thee." (Jeremiah31:3)

I did not understand why I was in the pit, but I now see that affliction brought me closer to God's word. "Before I was afflicted, I used to stray off, but now I keep your instructions." (Psalm 119:67)

I may have strayed out of ignorance, but affliction brought me back. And when we suffer, we seek God more earnestly. We learn lessons we never learn in ease.

Once I emerged from the trials, I knew God's word in a whole new way. And now, I obey it fully, without hesitation.

CHAPTER SEVEN

I wish

When I set out to write this book, I desired to provide you with a guide for navigating times of trial, especially if you find yourself in the depths of despair, as I once did. However, as I wrote, I realized that no universal template exists. The best I can offer is the encouragement that God gave me.
That encouragement always came through His Word. At times, as a hidden blessing, Jesus would whisper to me, reminding me of His love and urging me to hold on and not give up. Perhaps the greatest encouragement I can give you is this: no matter what happens, how you feel, or what you think, do not give up. No matter how hard it gets, don't let the enemy convince you to let go of Jesus or to act in the flesh instead of waiting on God. Trust me, the temptation will come.
I want to share a story that I hope will encourage you to hold on. In 2013, I was diagnosed with uterine cancer and had to wait five weeks for my surgeon to return from vacation to do the surgery. Five weeks is a long time to wait for something like that, and I struggled. I coped by sleeping through most of the days because the uncertainty was overwhelming. My body demanded rest, and I surrendered to it.
During that time, I subscribed to daily scripture emails. On the morning of my surgery, I received two verses that struck me deeply:

"And the LORD, he it is that doth go before thee; he will be with thee, he will not fail thee, neither forsake thee: fear not, neither be dismayed." (Deuteronomy 31:8)

"When thou passest through the waters, I will be with thee; and through the rivers, they shall not overflow thee: when thou walkest through the fire, thou shalt not be burned; neither shall the flame kindle upon thee." (Isaiah 43:2)

These verses spoke directly to my situation. I needed to know that God had gone ahead of me, that He would be with me in surgery, and that He would never fail or forsake me. I was comforted. When I looked up the word "water" in the dictionary, I found one definition—"urine." I was stunned—God was showing me that some trials lead us through wastelands filled with suffering, yet He remains with us.
That morning at the hospital, I was given a spinal block instead of general anesthesia due to my allergy to the drugs. This meant I would be awake during the surgery. A blue sheet was draped across my stomach to block my view of the procedure. I had no morphine, only the block for pain management.
What I didn't expect was that I would still feel pain. It wasn't sharp, but intense cramping, like full labor contractions. I lay there, struggling to endure, listening to the doctors talk, trying to remain still.
Then, I heard the Holy Spirit whisper, "Look to your right."
I turned my head—and there, standing just three feet away, was Jesus. I could see Him in the spirit, as if a mist had filled the room and I was sure I was the only one seeing Him. He was watching the surgeon as she worked on my body.
He wore a brown robe with gold piping and a gold cloth belt. When He turned and smiled at me, my heart nearly burst. Then, in the sweetest voice I had ever heard, He said, "I told you that I would be with you." He smiled at me again and held his eyes on mine as he continued, "I have always been with you. I am with you now, and I will always be with you."
Tears filled my eyes. My blood pressure must have spiked. I wanted to cry out in joy, to hold Him, to praise Him—but I couldn't move. I just stared at Him, overwhelmed. He stood there throughout the surgery, watching over me. And when they finished, He disappeared.
His words echoed in my mind. He had always been with me. Through every trial and every hardship, He had never failed me. But at that moment, I truly understood His love in a way I never had before. Who was I to receive such a visitation? Who was I to be loved so deeply that Jesus Himself stood beside me in that operating room? I felt like David when he prayed in 2 Samuel:

"Then went King David in, and sat before the LORD, and he said, Who am I, O Lord GOD? And what is my house, that thou hast brought me hitherto?... Wherefore thou art great, O LORD God: for there is none like thee, neither is there any God beside thee, according to all that we have heard with our ears." (2 Samuel 7:18-22)

When I woke in the recovery room, my husband was there. All I could say was, "I saw Jesus. He was there. He stood beside me and talked to me. I saw Jesus!" I shared my story with my husband, my pastor, and his wife. I kept repeating it—I saw Jesus.
Little did I know how much I would need that visitation. The following days were excruciating. My pain was out of control. I had a twelve-inch incision across my abdomen, and I could feel every inch of it. Because of my allergy to narcotics, they only gave me Tylenol. The pain management doctor dismissed my cries for relief, refusing to increase the dosage. I was suffering beyond what I thought I could bear.
I sent my husband home because I couldn't handle having anyone near me. By the third day, the pain lessened, and I finally felt human again. I realized I wasn't going to die from it.
Looking back, I see that Jesus knew I needed Him in that operating room. He knew the days ahead would be brutal. He gave me His presence as an anchor, a memory to hold onto. No matter how hard it got, I knew one thing with absolute certainty—Jesus had been with me, and He always would be.
So I say to you—hold on. No matter how painful, no matter how dark it gets, do not let go of Jesus. He is with you. He sees you. He loves you. And He will never, ever fail you.

CHAPTER EIGHT

This is a Must

I am going to share one more thing (or maybe a couple more) with you before I tell you how God healed me and restored my life. This is the best advice I can give you among all that I've said. It is the most important thing—the one thing that often brought great relief, sometimes lasting a week or more. It wasn't something I did at first, but as time passed and things got worse, I began doing this.

I have a friend, an old saint in his eighties, who has been like a father to me in many ways. He is a former pastor I met some thirty years ago, and I have learned much from him over the years. He has helped me understand sanctification and has prayed with me through some of the worst times of my life. He is gifted in prayer. He understands the power of God to overcome and, more importantly, the power of agreeing in prayer with other saints. That is his superpower, and I have been thankful for his friendship as he has helped me learn to pray deeply and effectively. He taught me that there are times to pray alone and times to call in the troops.

I was in one of those times when I needed to call in the troops.

A couple of years into COVID, when people weren't always meeting in person, I decided to start a prayer group on Zoom. I asked our women's leader at church if I could put out a call to see if anyone wanted to pray regularly online, and eight women answered. Eventually, that whittled down to three, then two. I was happy for two, which made us a team of three because Jesus said that wherever two or three gather in His name, He is there. If three was good enough for Him, it was good enough for me.

As a group, we formed a tight bond and an intimacy that comes from spending quality time with people. I shared with them the things I was going through. I began to text them and ask for prayer on very hard days—when the pain was especially bad or when I was so weak I could barely walk across the house. They became my ER—the place I went when I could not carry my burden alone. They were the ones I called to pray for me and seek help from the Lord on my behalf.

I also had my spiritual mother and her husband, who had been my friends for over 54 years. Though they lived in New York, I could call and ask for prayer, and they would intercede for me. They had known me since the day I accepted the Lord and had seen me at my worst and my best. I didn't have to say much—just "pray for me"—and my dear friend, Susan, would pull her husband close, and they would intercede. I can't tell you the relief that brought me in times of real darkness. It brought light, life, and love back into my heart.

I tried not to be a burden to anyone. I didn't want to be the person in the group who always had a problem. The Word tells us we must carry our own burdens, and I tried. But there were times when I could not take another step without the prayer backup my friends could provide. So, I would reach out and ask for prayer, always aware that I didn't want to become a burden or wear them out with my asking. They were always gracious and loving. When they prayed, it wasn't long before the emotional or spiritual burden lifted, and I could breathe again.

Much of what I went through mentally and emotionally made me feel paralyzed—both mentally and physically. There were times when I could not move forward or backward in my thinking. I was stuck. I went through periods when my mind wandered down dark paths, and all I could do was watch because I was too weak to fight for myself. I had nightmares. I woke up in the morning in a complete brain fog, and some days, I didn't come out of it at all, only to repeat it the next day. The brain fog was paralyzing, and I had to learn to ride it out.

But back to my dear friend, the old pastor who has been so kind to me over the years. His gift is intercessory prayer, and I realized that some of the things I was experiencing, I was not going to overcome alone. I needed help, and he was willing to give it. He is kind-hearted and gentle, much like the father I wished I'd had, and he was gracious to be there for me.

I took the hardest things to him. I would tell him how I felt, how burdened I was, and how I could not get relief. He'd let me talk as long as I needed. He listened but said very little. He seldom offered me counsel. He never gave me an opinion. He simply reminded me that what we don't understand, God does. He didn't pretend to know what he didn't know. He just let me get it all out and then prayed for me.

He prayed to tear down the things that haunted me—the feelings and emotions that overwhelmed me, the fears I could not escape. Then he prayed for God to replace those things with good and Godly things. He took it all to the Lord and laid it at His feet, leaving it there for God to respond.

God always responded in a big way to his prayers. Burdens lifted. Fears dissipated. And as time went on, they came back less and less—until, finally, some didn't return at all.

"Confess your faults one to another, and pray one for another, that ye may be healed. The effectual fervent prayer of a righteous man availeth much." (James 5:16)

One thing I learned through all of this was that God wanted to removesome character flaws in me. Let's just say He was refining me in the fire of affliction. I recognized my occasional self-pity and my need to understand everything at all times. I would confess these things (among others) to my friend. He would listen, then pray. The pit has a way of drawing out subtle self-deceptions and faults that, on better days, I had excused and ignored.

As my friend prayed for me, these flaws began to change and slowly disappeared. I had been somewhat judgmental—now I had mercy. I had been quick to anger—now I was slower to react. I had been so sure of what I thought was true and right—now, I was slower to assume I knew everything. And so it went.

I highly recommend that when you are suffering, you find someone who knows how to pray—someone you trust enough to bear your heart to. Someone who will understand because they've been through it themselves. Someone willing to listen, love you, encourage you, and pray with you until God lifts your burdens and renews your spirit.

Without my dear friend and my prayer group, I don't know how I would have made it through. My husband and I prayed frequently, but I was quite a burden to him at times because of my disability and inability to smile. I don't think I smiled for almost four years, and if I did, it was fleeting. My husband tried to make me laugh, but I was beneath a spirit of heaviness, and it took years to get out from under it.

I didn't want to overwhelm him, so I shared much of my heaviness with my prayer partners, giving my husband a break. After God healed our marriage, he was so kind and tender to me and I wasn't sure I deserved it. But I received it gladly because I knew he loved me, and I loved him just as much in return.

You do not have to go through tough times alone. Yes, there are lonely moments, but as you open up to those you trust and find people who can help you pray through your trials, you will find you are never truly alone—and God will move in your life.

"And after you have suffered for a little while, the God of all grace, who has called you to His eternal glory in Christ, will Himself restore, confirm, strengthen, and establish you." (1 Peter 5:10)

CHAPTER NINE
Some Thoughts

I don't want to leave you with questions, so I have thought a lot about what I haven't told you yet. There are a few things I want to share. Once I get them all out, I will tell you about the angel that God sent to heal me and how he did that.

Before that, I want to give you some advice that I think will be useful in the days to come. These are things I learned in the pit, and although I couldn't put them all into action then, I am trying to do so now that my life is restored. These are my little nuggets of wisdom. They may sound small, but they carry great meaning if you think about them. I picked them up along the way, and I hope they are useful to you.

One thing God told me was that He was looking for useful people—people who would do what He told them to do without questioning Him or giving Him a hard time about it. He made it clear that He wants obedient children, but also children He can use whenever He wants—who will do whatever He says, no matter what He asks them to do.

One day, out of the blue, He said, "Be useful to me, Judy. I want to use you."

At the time, I thought being useful was probably a cool thing, so I didn't have a problem with it. But then He went on: "I have things to do in the future, and I want you to be a part of it." I thought that was even cooler because I've learned that whenever God pulls us into His work, we learn a lot about His heart and His character. I also knew that His word says those who love Him obey Him, so I understood how important it was to be ready to obey at all times.

At the time, the only way I could be useful was by staying close to Jesus and depending on Him to get me through. So I applied myself to that. What I didn't know then was that when my trial ended, God had work for me to do. I could never have dreamed or imagined in my wildest thoughts what He was going to invite me into. I will share that with you later, but for now, I want to impress upon you the need to be useful to God—to be ready always, to be prepared at all times to be used by Him. Have your ears wide open to hear His directions. They may come out of nowhere, and He may tell you to do something you never dreamed of doing or don't want to do. Plan to be useful in the days ahead if you want to see the glory of God in these dark times. Don't be left behind because you are distracted by the world, by other people, or by anything that takes your focus off God.

Another thing I want to share is how important it is to learn to focus on what we are doing. Throughout this trial, I was constantly distracted by pain, disability, or illness. For a while, I couldn't think about anything else. And just thinking about what I was going through was a real bummer, because the more we think about ourselves, the more miserable we become.

I spent many miserable days thinking about myself and my problems. Some of that was due to the illness that captured my mind in so many ways and didn't allow me to think freely. My mind was clouded or paralyzed, sometimes just floating around in space, and I was always running to catch up.

Learn to focus. Focus on whatever you are doing, but especially focus on the Lord and on the things He has told you to do or the scriptures He has put before you that hold special little messages for you. The world is a stage filled with distractions, and in the years ahead, we are going to have to be focused on getting God's work done. Like Nehemiah, who was badgered by those trying to stop his work, we must focus on what we are doing and let everything else fall by the wayside.

Decide how you are going to serve God and be faithful to it. Don't make promises you can't keep, but keep the ones you make to God. Keep your ears open because God is always speaking, though we're not always listening. Pay attention to that still, small voice and be ready to respond. Don't be one who hears and then forgets.

Determine to have the heart of God and to love people the way He does. Look for ways to serve others and learn to recognize the signs that someone needs help. Not everyone cries out when they are hurting. Some smile and tell you they're okay, but if you learn to read faces and look into eyes, you'll see the sadness or hurt there. God knows when someone is broken, and we can know too—if we pay close enough attention. People need God's love and care, which we can give, but we might never know unless we look.

Learn to let most of life roll off your back. There will always be a problem, and if you don't have one today, you will soon. They come and go. God always takes care of them, and they come to test our faith, but really, there is no reason to get worked up over them. Everything passes, sooner or later. I know because my trial passed—even when I wasn't sure it would, but hoped it might.

Be kind to yourself. We are fragile creatures, and God knows it well. We are also resilient and fierce when we need to be, but our hearts are sometimes as soft and malleable as cake and can easily crumble. Guard your mouth so that you do not shatter someone's heart. Never seek revenge—it will only hurt you. Leave vengeance to God. He will trouble those who trouble you. "Do not avenge yourselves, beloved, but leave room for God's wrath. For it is written: 'Vengeance is Mine; I will repay, says the Lord.'" (Romans 12:19)

My father used to tell me not to sweat the small stuff. And really, most of life is small stuff. Yes, big trials come, like the one I went through, but compared to that, the rest of my problems were nothing. They were little upsets I should have handed to the Lord and left with Him while I got on with my life.

Be kind to yourself. Learn to accept your weaknesses and appreciate your strengths. Remember, without Christ, we can do nothing. No matter how strong you are, the day may come when you will not be strong enough to cope. On that day, you will learn about God's strength, and if you do, it will forever change your life.

If you do nothing else, come to terms with how much God loves you. I wasted so many years not truly understanding the faithful, unfailing, unflinching lovingkindness of the Lord. My father was distant, emotionally cold at times, and never really there for me. I was left to figure things out for myself, and sometimes I couldn't. When I met Jesus, I had great hope in His love, but it took me many years to truly grasp how much He loves me.

But as I look back, I can see that He saved my life at least four times. Four times He saved me from dying, and four times He set me back on my feet. "Blessed be the Lord, for He has made marvelous His lovingkindness to me in a besieged city." (Psalm 31:21) I have seen the love of God in a besieged city. I have felt His love wash over me like a warm summer shower, and there is nothing in the world—nothing—that compares.

Practice gratitude. Thank God for what He's done for you, and how He's stood by you. Praise Him even when things are bad, especially when they are terrible. "God inhabits the praises of His people." (Psalm 22:3). I can't tell you how many times I've just thanked and praised the Lord for who He is and all He has done.

Learn to hang on, no matter what happens. Jesus is worth holding onto, and He will never let you go. Don't look to the left and don't look to the right. Set your sights on heaven and on doing the work that Jesus has given you. And rejoice that you have been found by the creator of the universe and He is invested in you!

And now, I will tell you about my angel.

CHAPTER TEN
My Angel

It was the fall of 2023. COVID had died down. Life was returning to normal. People were back at work, masks were mostly a thing of the past, and hope was in the air.

But not for me. In the previous six months, I had grown sicker than ever—so weak I could barely stand for more than five seconds. My life was unraveling faster than I had imagined, yet I felt an odd sense of peace. I had prepared for death and accepted it on many levels, but watching myself waste away was still painful.

I kept searching, praying, and hoping for a breakthrough. One good Christian friend had assured me for four years that it was coming, but after so long, I had serious doubts—about the breakthrough and her. Still, I held on to hope, something I hadn't had in the beginning, and hope kept me searching for answers.

One Monday at a prayer meeting, I told my two prayer partners I was at a loss. I had seen doctors, but they either dismissed me as depressed or admitted they had no answers—though they kept throwing supplements at me. They were no help. I felt like a bad patient, even a bad person, for having a problem no one could diagnose. Even a family member had remarked, "Why do you think you're so special that no one can figure out what's wrong with you?" It seemed like everyone thought it was in my head, and I was tired of their sad, pitying looks. I didn't want pity—I wanted answers.

That day in October 2023, one of my prayer partners said, "Why don't you find a functional medicine doctor?"

Later, I asked her why she suggested that, and she admitted she had no idea. She knew nothing about functional medicine—the words had just come out of her mouth unbidden. But I recognized the voice of the Lord when I heard it, and in that moment, it was clear to me that God was speaking through her. After the prayer meeting, I searched for functional medicine doctors in my area. I had done this a few years earlier, intrigued by stories of people finding solutions through functional medicine. I had also researched diets like carnivore since some claimed healing through them. The idea wasn't new to me.

I found a functional medicine doctor just a few miles away, in the next town over. I called and scheduled a Zoom appointment—much easier than trying to get to his office. I prepared a list of all my symptoms and questions, though I can't recall them all now. We talked for almost two hours. He took my full medical history, going back to childhood—an ulcer at three years old, a bone infection, boils, tonsillitis. Then we covered my adult years. He ordered blood tests and set a follow-up in two weeks. He answered every one of my questions. For the first time in years, I felt someone might help me.

After the call, as I sat thinking about the appointment and planning for my lab visit, the Lord spoke.

"Did your angel answer all your questions?"

The words hit me out of the blue. My angel? Was this my angel? When God told me an angel would come to heal me, I had believed Him—but I never quite understood what He meant by "angel." It didn't make sense to me but I waited to find out.

"This is my angel? This is the one who's going to help me get well?" I could hardly believe it.

"Did he answer all your questions?"

I looked at my list. Every single question was checked off.

"Yes, he did."

"Yes," God said. "This is your angel."

I was stunned. What did this mean? Would I walk again? Go to the store, to church? Would making dinner become a joy instead of a burden? Would I get my life back? My job was gone. I was five years older. What would I do for work?

It turned out my angel was a Christian who had only recently set up his practice after finishing his licensing requirements. He had just arrived in town. Where had he been in 2021 when God told me he would heal me? Why had I waited two more years to find him? I had so many questions, but I held them in my heart.

I liked my angel immediately. He was smart, caring, and confident. He listened and understood me. He told me I would walk without pain again and that getting out of a chair would be easy. I believed him.

He also told me that I was half-dead. He didn't think I had long to live if something didn't change.

The idea of being well again sparked hope in my heart. That, in itself, was a miracle. I had no strength, no balance. I could barely walk. I couldn't even step over a low threshold without pain. It would take a miracle for me to walk normally again.

But I followed through. The lab took twelve tubes of blood—twelve! The results were six pages long.

When they came in, we met on Zoom. He explained everything. My body was barely making any hormones—every level was critically low. My former doctors had brushed this off; this doctor said it was the issue. I had metabolic syndrome, a mold infection, and heavy metal toxicity. My inflammation was off the charts. My body was breaking down—but we were going to turn it around.

At that time, I was still napping most afternoons. He told me that would soon end. He prescribed hormones, vitamins, and minerals, he adjusted my thyroid medicine, and gave me a prescription for inflammation. Then he introduced me to the animal-based diet. Food, he said, could heal me.

I committed. I cut out sugar, seed oils, gums, carrageenan, additives, pesticides, and preservatives. I switched to grass-fed beef and organic produce. I made my own laundry detergent and shampoo and switched to Tallow soap. I threw out all my makeup and replaced it with organic products. All those chemicals were hormone suppressants, slowly killing me. I was done with them.

Change came slowly—but it came. Soon, I didn't need daily naps. My weakness faded over three months until it was gone. I could cook, go to the store, attend church. And incredibly, my knees stopped hurting. I was bone-on-bone in both knees, but suddenly, I could do deep knee bends—something I hadn't done in over a decade. I could walk a mile. I could climb stairs without using my arms.

But after nearly five years of sitting, my body had suffered. My arms were weak, my elbows ached, and my shoulders barely moved. Physical therapy took a year to restore my shoulders. My wrists regained function. I could turn a doorknob, pick up a penny, or open a can without an electric opener.

Now, sixteen months later, I feel good. I'm not tired. I'm not weak. My body is still recovering, but it's working again. Another year, and I'll be back to where I was twelve years ago.

I still have osteoarthritis in my fingers and wrists, but the pain is minimal. My back is weak from years of sitting, but I'm rebuilding it. My doctor told me it would take two years to fully heal, and he was right. Two years to reverse metabolic syndrome, balance my hormones, and restore my health. Nine more months, and I believe I'll be whole again.

I still have psoriasis, but that may heal with time. I may always have some arthritis. But the point is—God gave me my life back. He answered every prayer and sent me an angel, and that angel helped me walk again. God never failed or forsook me. He lifted me from my worst nightmare and restored my life.

He put a new song in my heart, and I have endless reasons to praise Him.

He is so good.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

What Now?

"And after you have suffered for a little while, the God of all grace, who has called you to His eternal glory in Christ, will Himself restore, confirm, strengthen, and establish you." (1 Peter 5:10)

What is a little while?

When I first read that verse in the early stages of my affliction, I hoped "a little while" meant a week, maybe a month. A few months—tops. But then I read, "For a thousand years in thy sight are but as yesterday when it is past, and as a watch in the night." (Psalm 90:4)

Someday, in heaven, we will understand time as God sees it. But for now, it's perplexing. And honestly, I may never fully grasp why I remained in the pit for as long as I did.

Ispent a lot of time waiting. As time passed, I became more patient and learned to wait even longer. As my patience grew, so did my belief that Christ Himself would, in His perfect timing, restore, confirm, strengthen, and establish me. Those four words carry tremendous weight. To be restored alone would have been enough for me. I had lost so much, and I deeply missed my old life—especially working and having a daily routine. Having a job gave me life structure. Instead, I had been sitting around for what felt like forever, thinking about nothing but my problems. I was sick of it. So the idea of being restored, confirmed, strengthened, and established was almost too good to be true.

And yet, it was happening. My strength was returning. My life was slowly being restored.

I had learned my lessons. I finally understood what it meant to let go and let God. That truth alone freed me from many burdens I had been carrying. I realized I didn't have to hold on to them. I could hand them over to God, release them, and move forward.

I am freer in so many ways now. I don't worry about evil men or what the future holds. The news doesn't shake me because I know God is in control. I know who I am in Christ, and I know what He thinks of me. I am assured of His constant presence and know that He upholds me and protects me with His victorious right hand.

I know how to battle the enemy. I've learned to stop negative thoughts before they take root. And no matter what happens, I believe—with everything in me—that God is in control.

I know that I know that I know.

A Promise Fulfilled

Now, after everything I have walked through, God is fulfilling a promise He made to me in 2012—one He later confirmed through two Christian brothers. He told me that He would give me a ministry alongside my husband to help bring people out of darkness. He assured me that He would give me the authority to speak, and people would listen because they would recognize the truth. They would hear God speaking through me.

He commanded me not to seek ministry or try to be sanctioned by anyone. Instead, He said people would come to me—He would send them. My job was simply to pray and ask how He wanted me to help them.

People came, and they kept on coming.

They say, "God told me to reach out to you. He said you could help me." So I listen to their stories and seek the Lord for guidance on how to counsel them.

Not too long ago, a job opportunity came out of nowhere—an administrative role at a small nonprofit, doing the kind of work I love. I also volunteered to lead my church's visitation team and began taking trauma relief courses to support the counseling I do.

I can come and go as I please. I don't need to nap every afternoon. I work out and I'm rebuilding my body after years of suffering. The brain fog is gone. The fatigue is gone. The pain—except for some osteoarthritis—is gone. So are the depression, anxiety, fear, worry, and that terrifying sense that I was losing my mind.

I am back. A little out of shape, maybe, but I am back.

And with all of this behind me, I can honestly say—this was the greatest blessing I have ever experienced.

I learned so much about God and His love for us. "For the eyes of the Lord run to and fro throughout the whole earth, to show Himself strong on behalf of them whose heart is perfect toward Him." (2 Chronicles 16:9) While I sat in my chair and suffered, the Lord's eyes ran to and fro looking for me, looking for how to help me, strengthen me, teach me, and ultimately restore my life. He did it His way and in His time. He taught me everything He wanted me to know. He rubbed the rough edges off my soul and softened my heart. He made me a kind person who cares deeply about others, especially the hurting.

He was there for me in the darkest hours and I see now the tapestry he was weaving behind the scenes. I see the light He was trying to bring into my heart and mind. I hear His voice, calling to me and telling me that I am home. I can say, as it says in Isaiah 50:7, "For the Lord God helps me, therefore, I am not disgraced; therefore, I have set my face like flint, and I know that I will not be ashamed."

He promises that we will not be ashamed and that He will be found when we seek Him with all our hearts. Suffering is one of the things He uses to teach us how to seek Him with all our hearts.

I know that's true. We don't know how deep our hearts are until we need to call out from the depths of them. And when we do, God is moved and responds in His time and way.

I hope that I have given you something that will help you through your trial. This has been a hard story to tell and as I've said before, so much of it is a blur. When you are in deep pain, it's the pain you remember, not so much the circumstances of your life. But when God speaks, it is His voice you remember, because it is thunderous and awesome, and one word from God can heal the greatest pain. There is nothing in this world that can stand in the way of God finding you, no matter where you are or what you are suffering.