This Month's Top Story
I Asked God To Take Me Home
By Linda Crawford
“Lord,
if you are not going to heal me now, please,
just take me home.”
I hung there on the side
of my bed, fighting to keep my eyes open.
Then I decided I didn’t want to keep them
open.
This had been a long journey.
I just wanted to go home to be with the
Lord.
Back in the late 90’s,
doctors started saying that I had Fibromyalgia,
but I wouldn’t accept that diagnosis, nor would
I even say the word.
As a matter of fact, I called it the “F”
word.
I started declaring my healing and
refused to take the rest of the tests for a
complete diagnosis.
Still, whether I completed the testing or
not, doctors said other illnesses would develop
as a result of the Fibromyalgia.
I had already been diagnosed with high
blood pressure, which was always stroke level,
and hypoglycemia.
My blood sugar would drop so fast, that
before I knew it, I would be in a helpless
state, unable to even hold my head up to drink
juice.
I noticed that I would often have back
and joint pain, stiffness, and chronic swelling
in my legs, feet and fingers.
I was diagnosed with arthritis.
Sometimes I could hardly walk, and
sometimes, I couldn’t walk at all.
Often struggling to get out of bed, I
would press my feet to the floor to see if I
could walk.
Most of the time, I could.
Sometimes, I could not. Still declaring
my healing, I took pain and inflammatory
medication and learned to get up the stairs and
out of my car without being noticed.
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