A True Story


This took place last year at the Original Conference. I promise it is all true.

It was the final session of the conference. The last Original Gives give-a-way was scheduled for this session; Jen was presenting the Guth family with an all-expense paid family vacation where they could relax and reconnect after mom Judy’s recent battle with cancer. The worship team, the ballerinas, and I were following the service backstage, clapping for the Guth’s and watching for our cues. Before Jen led in prayer for Judy, she asked anyone who also needed healing to raise their hands.

In 2001 I lost my left ovary and fallopian tube to what turned out to be stage 4 (most severe) endometriosis. At this same time it was discovered that my right ovary was also compromised.

Long story short, after years of infertility treatments, several surgeries, and top medical care, here I was standing behind the big black curtain childless and in pain. The scar tissue from the endometriosis and all the surgeries had combined to form a painful tangle that connected my colon, pelvis, ovary and uterus on my right side. It hurt. My body wanted to curl up around all that scar tissue and just lay still.

I cannot count the number of times I have raised my hand, come forward, prayed with friends and family, and personally sought the Lord for healing, with no tangible result. But I long ago decided to never close the door to healing because of disappointment. Just because it isn’t happening on my timeline or in the way I imagined it, doesn’t mean God isn’t able or doesn’t care about me. So one more time, I raised my hand.

The ballerinas, who are also some of my dearest friends and students, surrounded me. They knew what we were praying for. I didn’t have to say a word.

As Jen prayed a simple, passionate, heart-felt and faith-filled prayer (not unlike many other prayers that have been prayed), the scar tissue inside of me dissolved. It was just…gone. No fireworks, no goosebumps, no feeling of warmth from head to toe…just no more ropes knotting up my insides.

My eyes must have been miles wide. The girls knew. I began to stretch in ways I could not before. I walked around in a daze for several days. Honestly, I was waiting on the pain to return.

It didn’t.

But something else very eye-opening did happen.

My abs burned. My hip ached. My leg throbbed. The muscles on my entire right side had been twisted for so long that as my spin and pelvis settled into proper alignment, it hurt. I had also been favoring my right side, so my muscles were weak. Now that I was free of the plaguing scar tissue, I had some work to do. I had to strengthen my abs, hip, back, and leg.

And this got me thinking…When Jesus healed the blind, the lame, the crippled and the leaper…what happened next? People who had never built up muscle strength because they had never been able to walk had to then strengthen their legs. People who had never been able to work before because of their affliction had to go and get a job!

These individuals were now whole, and therefore able to wholly participate in life. Which means working (and a lot of other great things), all of which they had never done before. I bet it was a bumpy road for some of them. I know it took me by surprise that being healed would remove one kind of pain, and reveal another. Now that the endometrial tissue was gone, I could see the affect it had on my body, and I had to go to work to strengthen my muscles.

Why did God do it like this? Why dissolve the scar tissue and not stretch out and strengthen the muscles, tendons, and ligaments too?

I think it is because the moment of healing is only one part of the story. The whole story includes life after the miracle. The part where we respond to the miracle with gratitude, thanksgiving, and getting to work! God didn’t heal me so that I could curl up and lay around!

He healed me so that I could become stronger.

When God does something amazing in your life, you need to respond with gratitude and follow-through!

Two months after this miracle moment we received word that a young couple had selected us to be the adoptive parents of their child. Our son Jack was born on July 9 of this past summer. He is now seven months old, and I am beyond grateful that I am now strong enough to hold him, snuggle him, play with him, keep up with him, and love him.

I promise that this is a true story, every word. I am so glad I raised my hand for prayer, one more time. I am so glad I trusted God to be good. I am so glad that you took the time to read this story. I pray that it encourages you to be patient and to trust God. He has good, and only good, for each and every one of us. Keep raising your hand. God has not forgotten you. He has not abandoned you. He is not overwhelmed by your troubles. You just aren’t to the next chapter of your story yet. Let’s all just keep turning the pages together!

P.S. Go to www.originalconference.com to register for Original 2014, which is April 10-12! Girls, get here. Great things happen! Guys, help a girl you love get here! Great things happen!