In the Desert Place

I was 29 years old and had just given birth to Eric, my fourth child. During the pregnancy, I was troubled quite a bit with stomach problems but just thought I was having a lot of indigestion.

When Eric was two months old, he was hospitalized with pneumonia. I was feeling ill with back pains the day we took him in and Eric’s doctor told me I should get myself checked. On the same night Eric came home from the hospital, my pains got worse. I asked a friend to stay with the children while I drove myself to the emergency room where my husband met me.

After examining me and taking a blood test, the doctor diagnosed the pain as Pancreatitis. He said my gall bladder needed to be removed. I had never had surgery before, so I was very nervous, as was my husband. We prayed and called friends and family to pray. The Lord enabled me to go through the surgery and return home in a week.

To my surprise, the pain didn’t go away after the surgery. In fact, I felt worse. I kept going to the doctor, but each time they sent me home saying I was fine. They did ultrasounds, x-rays, several medications, but nothing worked.

I started losing weight rapidly. I had no appetite and was in so much pain I became fearful and depressed. My grandma had died the year before from colon cancer and I was sure that I also had a fatal disease.

The doctors kept reassuring me that I should feel fine – there was nothing wrong. But I couldn’t even sleep at night because the pain was so severe. Nothing I took or tried relieved the pain.

Meanwhile, I had to care for three small children and a newborn. My parents were so good to me during this time. They came over every day to take care of us and clean the house. But time was passing and I wasn’t getting any better. I knew it was starting to wear on them and becoming difficult for them to continue.

I was desperate. I thought, “My sickness must be all in my head; maybe if I tell myself I’m all better, I will be.” So I told my parents not to come help anymore; that I was okay now and could get along fine without their assistance.

I still remember that first morning on my own. I sat on the hallway floor in my nightgown, doubled up in pain. I could hear Eric crying in the crib, but I couldn’t muster the strength to get up and get him. I prayed, “Oh Lord, You’ve got to help me. I can’t take this anymore. My family needs me.”

My biggest fear was that if I couldn’t take care of my children, someone would take them from me. And I loved them so much.

Well my parents came anyway. They knew better. They knew I wasn’t ready to be on my own yet.

During the times I was depressed, I found solace in playing the piano. One  day, I sat down at the piano to play and, with tears rolling down my face, I penned out the words of this song I’m sure God wrote for me:

My child, don’t try
To make it on your own
Don’t you know how much I love you?
And you’re not alone
I’ve been here, just waiting
For you to call on Me
I’ll hold you close
I’ll mend your wounded heart
Run into My arms
Let Me dry your tears
I will make you whole
Take away your fears

Then one day my husband came home from work and told me he was up for a job promotion. He was working for AT&T and had applied for a job as a supervisor. The only openings were in Arizona, California or somewhere out east, nothing in our Colorado region. I thought, “That’s just great; what will I do in a strange city, as sick as I am, with no one to help me? That would be the end for sure.”

I told my husband the only place I would consider moving to was Phoenix, Arizona. I had been there once on vacation when I was a teenager and really liked it. I didn’t think the transfer would really happen.

The next thing I knew, Phil was off to Phoenix for an interview. He got the job and in two weeks we were flying there to find a house. We only had three days to find one and I was very reluctant to cooperate with the realtor. I didn’t want to be there and I didn’t want to move.

But, even though I felt hopeless, in the back of my mind was  the thought that maybe something good might happen as a result of this move. A particular verse in the Bible comforted me: “God will not crush the weak nor quench the smallest hope.” I was certainly weak and had very little hope.

The realtor was about to give up on me when finally I liked the last house on his list. It had a beautiful pool and I knew the kids would love it.

We moved to Phoenix in July, the hottest time of year. I was still in severe pain, but trying hard to have fun in spite of it. It was refreshing to have a change of scenery.

I started getting a tan on my 94-pound body, which was still shrinking by the day. I was so embarrassed; I looked like a little teenager babysitting her little brothers and sisters.

One day, while lying by the pool, I begged the Lord to take the pain away. I even tried demanding He make me well. “Lord, I’m not getting off this chair until You take this pain away,” I said. I gave up after 10 minutes and no answer. At that point, I just said, “I don’t care anymore. Lord, I love You and I know You love me. I’m just going to make the best of this. It’s in Your hands.”

Days and weeks went by. We swam to our hearts' content, enjoyed plenty of scrumptious food, and basked in the sunshine. Without realizing it, I was getting better and better every day. One day, I suddenly noticed I wasn’t in pain anymore. I couldn’t believe it. For six months, all I could think of was how desperately I wanted to be healed and I didn’t even realize when it actually happened.

I just had to stop and laugh at myself and I know the Lord was laughing with me; all that complaining and worrying was for nothing. The Lord had it worked out all along. If only I had trusted Him more; He knew just what I needed. My impossible situation wasn’t impossible for my big God. He took care of His daughter.

After seven months in Phoenix, my husband was offered another job back home in Denver—Youth Pastor at our home church. This came as a big surprise. We loved working with teenagers and we had always wanted to do it full-time so we gladly accepted the offer.

I arrived in Denver, Colorado, the picture of health. I was healthier than I had ever been in my whole life. God’s love became real to me in Phoenix, Arizona. He had just the right prescription for healing.