I was diagnosed with Major Depressive Disorder sometime in the mid-nineties. If you have read my story or know anything about my past you will agree with me I walked away from that inferno called my adolescence and childhood pretty much unscathed. It could have been far worse and I will never know here on Earth what Providence had miraculously spared me from. I could have entered adulthood with greater mental instability and psychosis.
Having sought refuge from the hell which reigned at home, I sought refuge in the company of brothers and sisters of my newfound faith in Christ "My Fire and Brimstone" Savior. Looking back in retrospect, I see how that little one story dark paneled church with the long hallway running alongside the right side of the building, had become a refuge to me. A home away from home. I'd be there every Tuesday night for prayer as well as every Thursday, Friday, and all day Sunday actively participating in the nightly services where a group of devout believers would meet and gather in segregated pews. Right side was strictly for the men and the left side of the sanctuary reserved solely for the women of the church. The sexes were prohibited from mixing and intermingling during service times.
The women,who far outnumbered the men in church, seemed to get the raw end of the deal when it came to rules of propriety and devotion. While the men came and went attired in whatever pleased them with the only exception being "no jewelry allowed" the women were not allowed to wear make-up or slacks, jewelry was not permitted and the hair-dos were long and eternally tied into neat buns which came undone in dramatic fashion as the spirit came upon them and each shook like a 7.0 quake of ecstatic and religious abandon. A sight to behold. All in the name of holiness. Yet while we took extra care in how we dressed and needed to abstain from, the inner man remained stunted and immature. It was far easier to govern appearance and attire than to do the deeper work which always demands and requires brutal and honest self introspection.
For many years I felt guilty and ashamed of myself that I was unable to simply trust God and cling to supernatural faith. I would hear stories of how people had been miraculously healed and set free from all types of infirmities and bondages and I would inwardly seethe with anger at myself for not being to walk in that kind of faith. This created a great deal of inner turmoil, not to mention a deep sense of failure at never being able to go at it without the aid of man-made medicine and practices. I can't even begin to tell you how many times I would stop taking the prescribed medicines without the consent of my doctor because I wanted to have "faith" in God and not man. How foolish. Each time I'd get off the anti-depressants it would take me longer each time to get back on track to recovery and stability.
I hope I have learned my lesson as I go about taking a break from chemotherapy. I would hate to have come this far in my recovery and healing only to set myself way off course. I earnestly pray the next few weeks will be exactly what my body was in need of. The neuropathology in my hands and feet is literally consuming me. That alone is reason for a break from treatment.
I'm still believing God for my healing. Honestly, I did not expect it would take this long in coming but my day will surely come. I know it. I believe it. I decree and declare it. I will not die consumed by this Cancer. The agonizing pain that holds me prisoner today will soon have to release me. God loves me way too much to allow me to suffer unnecessarily. Everything under the sun has a purpose and if we will allow ourselves to do the deeper work required of us, we will one day experience freedom and soar like the eagles high above it all. Looking forward to that moment with great joy and celebration and I know you will be right there with me shouting the victory promised to us by the shed blood on calvary.
Crooked Notes by Idilio Rivera is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.
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