There were many years of hardened armor placed upon this soul, in an effort to shield it from pain. The skin lost it’s ability to breathe, slowly smothering the life that remained. In truth I was dying and all feared there would be no cure. I was a desperate woman seeking sleep to ward off my final slumber.
Lying deep within my heart, hurt and anger had caused me to recoil. Foolishly I believed that I was strong behind my glistening mask. I thought I had mastered this disguise to a level where there wasn’t a trace of it on my face, until God showed me… me. I had been too egotistical to expose my weaknesses and seek His endless grace.
For five and a half sleepless months physicians spoke words contrary to life, while scratching their heads in disbelief. Some agreeing I was living proof that with God the impossible is possible.
The battle in my mind warred every minute of every day; there was no escaping. I had to shift my focus from the darkness and see myself from a place of victory, only allowing hope of life and light to be present. To get to that place I had to peel back the layers of hardness, exposing and allowing myself to be vulnerable and open to intimacy; not just with man, but with God.
During the endless months of eyes wide open I discovered that a broken person is the reason we need a Savior. We cannot save ourselves by wishful thinking. For a healing to take place, we must first be broken to the point of death in order to have new life. Not a physical death, but in a surrendering of will.
What I experienced was unique, but the pain I felt was universal. We share that human common thread, but to each of us it is a personal prison. The spirit of fear and spirit of rejection working together as prison guards, keeping us bound in a cell with the door wide open.
My hope in telling my story is to encourage you to go beyond wherever you stopped believing because of hopelessness. Whether it be a spirit, soul or body entrapment, there is liberty in Jesus Christ waiting to set you free.