The
BEACON
Issue No.6
Crandall University
November 17, 2011
Thanks Jesus by Rachael Midterms flowed into Paper Session and a lot of people simply ran out of time to get their articles in. I’m debating with myself about how it might be a bit arrogant to publish my own article. Nevertheless, there is a large blank waiting for text. So, here it is. Some of you may know this story, but most of you don’t. When I was 11 Jesus decided it was time to teach me, quite possibly, the most important lesson of my life. A lot of the time, Jesus teaches us things in round about ways. However, He knew I needed to be involved in the lesson. My whole body hurt. My fingertips peeled off. My toes ached (In a heavily medicated state I asked my mom to stop putting pop bottles on my toes!:p ). My soft skin was covered with rashes. They ran out of places to inject needles, so they put a tube through my arm and called it a butterfly. So many electronics were attached to me that it seemed as if I was more machine than human. My bowel was about to burst. Perhaps most significant, my heart had a hole in it. All of this kept me confined to the pediatrics ward for a solid month. They called it Kawasaki syndrome. Ironically, my dad had (and has) a kawasaki four-wheeler. Some of you might recall when John Travolta’s son died. It was from the same illness. Most people don’t live through it. But I did. I am thankful for the effort and kindness the hospital workers showed me. However, little they did helped. I got worse and worse, until one night. A CAT scan revealed that my bowel would soon erupt and infection would be more than I could fight. A helicopter was ready to take me to the IWK. The hospital staff sat my parents down to tell them it was over. Chances were, I wouldn’t make it the night. My parents called their church and the church called a prayer meeting. The IWK requested another CAT scan be done before sending me off.. They wanted to watch, so they could be ready when
I arrived. However, this scan read a bit different. This scan showed my body recovering at an abnormal rate. I am a big fan of comic books, so I like to think that in that moment I became a member of the XMen, but that would only pale in comparison to the truth. The truth being that, in that moment, Jesus taught me that He is the great physician. I was at my worst and He made me whole. He showed me that He has a purpose for me. However, the story continues. Hospital staff won’t just let you go free that easy. They’ve got to check everything out. I’m glad they did because it made my faith even stronger. Remember that hole in my heart? It disappeared. Jesus didn’t even leave a scar. I know it was Jesus, because the doctors admitted that they hadn’t done anything to treat my bowel or heart. It was rough month after this. I got made-fun-of a lot for being so skinny...I weighed about half of my current weight and was only 2 inches shorter. I also had to learn to eat and walk again. That was embarrassing at times, but it likely made me a better person. Although making me sick and causing my parent’s so much stress may not seem like a just thing to do, I continuously thank God for doing so. I don’t know how my faith could be so strong without this experience. God had given me eleven years of Sunday School and I hadn’t fallen in love with Him. It wasn’t until a year or so after all this that I did. It’s quite possible that without this memory, I’d be missing out on a lot right now. God has blessed me with so much. I honestly do not know how people live without Him. I only remember praying once throughout my hospital stay. I recall being prayed for a lot. But I only remember praying the once. I remember a dark room, a prayer, and comfort. I don’t remember the details, but I knew then I would be okay. I am.