My Faith Testimony- Joshua Hodge

I sat down. “You have time?” I asked Luke. “It’s going to take a while.” 

And I began…

I explained it in pretty full detail. I explained how I grew up in a family of loving parents, and how my father was a pastor. I shared how I had a good upbringing as a child. Then in high school I had acquaintances in my life and the mere mirage of friendships, but I was very alone. At school I did not connect with anyone on a deeper level. At the church youth group many of my peers were purely nasty to me. The local church was a major contributing factor to everything in my life at the time, and there was so much division and so much sickness in this church. It was the church my father was pastor at, but its troubles were not his fault. It had a long broken history and chronic sickness. Through a series of events, I became very depressed, and to top it off I had become sick with chronic juvenile pancreatitis. Many nights I cried myself to sleep between feeling loneliness, physical pain, and despair. Nobody knew this. I kept it all inside. It came to the point that I didn’t want to live. One night I cried out to God, “Why did you make me if I’m just going to suffer?” I was angry at God. Despite me and my behavior, looking back, I believe God blanketed me with peace that dark and lonely night.

I carried on and it eventually came time to graduate high school. I left Massachusetts to go to school in Kentucky amidst one of the largest episodes of drama in the church. With my dad being pastor it was inevitable that church life would be unavoidably integrated and profoundly impactful on our family life. What happened? I was an inquisitive and keen observer in my youth and I had some suspicions that held true. I caught the youth pastor embezzling money, something he had been doing for a long time with the help and assistance of other church members. Another youth leader was glorifying sexually promiscuous behavior online and flippancy towards God’s word. I felt I needed to bring these areas of darkness and expose them to light. In doing so, I felt I nearly put the nail in the coffin of the church. The fighting, backstabbing and polarization within the church reached new levels. 

When I left to go to school in Kentucky, these culminating events at the church would propel me into a faith crisis. I moved into Asbury College, far from home. Here immersed in a Christian culture, contemplating my faith and the church was inevitable. I was struggling. If the people at my church were “Christ followers” and “the people of God,” is God even real? I  considered this because their behavior was antithetical to the teachings of Christ and no different than the rest of the world. From what I had experienced, their behavior was perhaps even worse. These people were mean towards one another, lying, stealing, and giving into the lusts of this world. Not everyone at the church was this way, but it was perhaps the most influential ones to me whom I had been most focused on who behaved this way. 

During my first week of college, one night I needed some alone time. I had thoughts and things to sort out. I walked to the soccer fields. I laid down in the middle of one field and gazed up at the stars. My faith was deeply scarred. So looking up at the stars I said, “God, if you are real, I need a sign, because I feel as though I don’t have faith anymore.” I figured the all-powerful God of the universe, if that’s who He was, could prove himself to me in this moment. But I found myself walking back to my dorm thinking, well, if God can’t even prove himself to me, why should I believe? 

I used to be a staunch rule follower, and I wanted to do things the way they are to be done, and so I wanted to be the best Asbury College student I could be. Many chapel speakers and professors kept driving in their point that we all should have a life of “devotion,” meaning we needed to be reading the Bible and praying daily. If that was expected of me, I wanted to do it, even if I didn’t see the value in it, not sure I believed any of it anymore. However, the first evening I sat down for my devotion time, I found myself in the first chapter of James. It reads, “Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, for you know the testing of your faith develops perseverance, and perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything. And if any of you lacks wisdom, you should ask God who gives it freely to all without finding fault…”

I was blown away, completely captivated, spoken to by this Scripture. I was to consider it “pure joy” to face trials of many kinds and the testing of my faith? My faith had surely been tested. The testing of it had been a stress on me for a while. The first directive was clear: be joyful. The second directive: to persevere. Okay, I’m going to persevere in this so-called devotion time, despite my lack of faith. Then I focused on the third directive: ask God for wisdom, and so I did just that. It was one of those prayers that started out like, “God, if you are real…,” then concluded with, “…I ask you for wisdom.” 

Then in the upcoming days, weeks, and months, things started to shake! I was still dealing with my depression, but in moments of mental anguish I always seemed to come across the right Scripture, or someone would speak a word of encouragement into my life, or I’d read something by a true believer that inspired and spoke directly to my situation. I prayed for strength. God gave it to me. I prayed for perseverance, God gifted it. I prayed for friends, and they came, and they were so very different from the so-called “Christians” from youth group. These people would engage with me in conversation, care about what I was going through. There was a light they carried I hadn’t seen before this close-up. I was starting to see, there really are “people of God.”  Their lives were evidence. I was starting to feel incredibly blessed. Day by day my faith in God was growing stronger and stronger. Eventually phrases and words would come to mind, as if out of thin air. They would provide me strength, perspective, and propel me forward– gifts from God perhaps? I’d rush back to my Bible to confirm they were in accordance with the Word. They were! God was ministering directly to my soul! He was pursuing me!

I was still feeling hurt by my past church, I was still trying to adjust to college so far from home, and I had a lot of insecurity from past hurt that caused me anxiety in making friends. A lot was going on. So in my devotion time, I had many prayers, and many prayers were answered.

One day in our college chapel service, everyone was given an index card upon entry. The chapel speaker delivered his message and we were all instructed to write a note to God. I wrote three specific things: 1. I thanked God for all the good things he was doing in my life and for all answered prayers, 2. I asked that God would show me how to worship Him. My only view of worship was through praise songs. There had to be more. What was a “life of worship,” and 3. I felt God’s presence so near to me. I prayed that I would always feel his presence close to me. I was sitting up on the balcony. I walked down to the front of the chapel where we were instructed to plsce our cards on the kneeling altar in front of the podium. We were told to grab a Bible verse out of a basket. I did so. I got back up to my seat on the balcony. I read it and burst forth silently in tears. This was the ultimate sign. God responded directly to my three requests. The card read: “‘I will make an everlasting covenant with you. I rejoice in doing good things for you. I will never stop doing good things for you. I will instill in you a heart of worship, and you will never leave me.’ Jeremiah 32:40”

My faith had been growing over the past few months, but this was the final push- the final verification. God was real! He was with me! He was here! And he had been here all along!  I also realized in the moment, this was the sign I prayed for months ago when I was laying out in the soccer field at night. I realized during the past few months God was teaching me patience and perseverance. Now I was a complete mess of gratitude. I had a class I was supposed to go to after chapel, but I stayed. I skipped my class, and wept and thanked God. This was  momentous in my life. My faith became real and became my own. 

Then it was time to get to work spiritually. God had pursued me. He caught me, and now He wanted to restore me. We had to bring my own darkness captive to the light. I thought my faith alone, my belief in God, would resolve my depression. It didn’t. Some days I didn’t want to deal with life, with my own thoughts, my own problems and insecurities, so I developed a habit of just sleeping them away. I was aware of this. It had to stop. It was a big step for me to seek counseling. I thought only truly crazy people did that. I was wrong. I had to set my pride aside. My counselor I believe was ordained by God. She was able to reach into my life and rework the wiring. I had developed some horrible snowballing thought processes that led to anxiety and depression. She taught me how to stop my thoughts in motion, hold them captive, and expose them to Truth. I also had trouble opening up to others in any capacity. I was an extremely private person, because of my own insecurities. The counselor said, after hearing all my stories and learning who I was, “I believe the world is really missing out on Josh Hodge.” That was profoundly impactful for me to hear. 

Also at this time, a part of God’s plan for my restoration, was introducing a specific friend into my life. This was the most overtly influential friend I have ever had. His name was Danny. I had seen him around campus. He was a student athlete, and I thought he was way too cool to be my friend. One day, walking across campus, he approached me for the first time. “I know I don’t know you, but I want you to know I’ve been praying for you… I’ve seen you around campus and God told me to pray for you. So I have been,” Danny said. I opened up to Danny and he did the same with me, telling me he was once a drug addict and given completely to the lusts of the world, but then he surrendered to God and his life was completely changed. He soon became my best friend. 

Every night we’d meet together to pray or read the Bible. He’d leave voice messages of encouragement I needed to hear on my phone at just the right moments. I still hold those very special to this day. He seemed to know my heart more than myself, almost in an eerie way. He also prompted me, or told me to go on a mission trip to Mexico City through one of the student missionary organizations on campus. I went. Danny told me, “God is going to use you on that mission trip. Watch and see.” I went and I shared my story of faith thus far at two churches. It was very fresh and raw to me at the time. Surprisingly it had brought some to tears, and two members of my mission team sought me out privately to say my story really spoke to them. My story of brokenness was now being used for something beautiful, for encouragement and inspiration to others. Wow! I marveled at it. My past hurts were not scars, not a dark spot on my life. Now these experiences were being redeemed. I was being redeemed! This was a new concept to me. Twice on that trip, journaling at night, sitting by a window in Mexico City, God spoke to me saying I was to come back to Mexico City. I was taken off guard, not expecting this. I wanted to know when. That detail I was not provided. God told me just to trust Him, and so I did. 

Back at Asbury College, Danny continued to bless me richly with his friendship. The theme and Bible verse of our friendship was Proverbs 27:17: “As iron sharpens Iron, so one man sharpens another.” We sharpened each other greatly. I tutored him and helped him academically, he encouraged and mentored me spiritually. He often reminded me of Romans 8:28, “We know that all things work together for good for those who love God and have been called according to His purpose.”

One night in the midst of a terrible nightmare, Danny barged into my dorm room, woke me up and prayed for me. Many things like this happened with Danny, that I simply cannot explain apart from God’s Spirit at work. How else would Danny know? It was like he was sent. 

I was very sad when I learned Danny would not be returning to Asbury the next school year, but instead would pursue seminary studies at a school in Florida. I was losing him, and for a while I was deeply saddened. Then I realized I can’t be selfish. Danny had been so powerful and influential in my life that I needed to let him go and do the same he did for me for others. The next semester, we lost contact. His phone number ceased to work, His email, invalid. I tried to reach out to him in as many ways possible. Others who knew him at Asbury experienced the same results. I do not know what happened to Danny. I have some magnificent speculations, but all I truly know is that his friendship continues to be a model for me today, and his influence lasts with me today. It has been woven into the fabric of my character. 

Between the counselor at school and Danny, God had worked a number on restoring me. I often wondered why God didn’t perform the miracles I’d read about in Scripture anymore, but I realized God had performed a miracle on me. His hands were at work through Danny and my counselor. I also came to see that He performs many miracles all around everyday. He channels His healing power and his wisdom through His people and through medicine. Who brings wisdom and knowledge to man? Who gives power for enzymes and for chemicals to react? 

Despite all my progress I came to realize I’ll never be fully restored until I am with God in His Heavenly Kingdom, but here in this life, we are able to, and should, bring darkness to light. I can say with confidence, by God’s working in my life, and his hand through the people he placed in my life, I have fully conquered and overcome depression. Glory to God! 

When I returned for my sophomore year at Asbury, I came early, for despite my rocky first year, I was chosen to become a T.A.G. leader. The acronym stands for Transition and Guidance. I was assigned a group of about twenty freshmen. Me and another sophomore would be their leaders and guides throughout freshmen orientation and throughout their first semester. We’d check up on them regularly, hold weekly meals together, and plan monthly events. 

The night before all the freshmen arrived I was starting to feel anxious. I had some social anxiety, and the thought of twenty freshmen looking at me at the same time felt overwhelming. I didn’t have the social confidence for this. Despite all the training I went through, I didn’t feel prepared. So I went for a walk at night to the same soccer field I had prayed at during my first week of college. The first time I went there I was in my faith crisis. Now, I had faith. I was just dealing with my own insecurity. Laying there, I talked to God. I wasn’t praying necessarily as one might think. I was just sharing my feelings. It went something like this, “God I feel like this is all a mistake. I don’t think I should be a T.A.G. leader. I don’t have the skills for this. I feel so anxious about talking to all these students…” I went on and on. Woe is me.

Then God spoke, and boy did He speak! It’s interesting how the first time I came to this field I had no faith, yet I sought something miraculous. Now, I had faith, and wasn’t expecting anything, but from my line of vision all the stars in the sky disappeared except for one. There was one single focal point, and God said directly to my soul, “Don’t be distracted by all the fears around you. Focus on me and everything will be fine.”  I was amazed. I ran back to campus to share the news. God’s directive was exactly what I followed. I resolved to set my fear aside and be courageous in what I do, and I truly focused on caring and loving these freshmen. I did it all sincerely and as an act of worship, focusing on God.  He was teaching me, as promised, how to worship Him through loving others.  I would say the semester was a success. After all, three of my freshmen went on to become T.A.G. leaders the next year. I felt truly blessed.

After my mission trip to Mexico, I had felt convicted to study more Spanish, knowing God was taking me back to Mexico City at some point, but I found it hard to learn Spanish in Kentucky. I wanted to study abroad so badly, and of course I was dead set on studying in Mexico City and nowhere else. However, Asbury would not approve of a study abroad semester in Mexico City. If I wanted to study there, I’d have to drop out, apply as an international student, and reapply to Asbury as a transfer student with no guarantee I’d be accepted or they’d accept my credits from Mexico. It was a big risk. I was contemplating this risk and also considering how I could follow the natural progression of leadership opportunities at Asbury and become a paid Resident Assistant and have the potential opportunity to have influence over a whole hall of students. Oh what to do?

I went for a walk to pray. Lord, should I study in Mexico or should I stay and be an R.A.? I wanted a clear answer. I got one, but it wasn’t what I was expecting. God said, “I have given you the wisdom to make this decision. Make the decision and it will be the right one.” I was incredibly humbled. I couldn’t have come up with this answer. I had incredible peace. Okay, I’m going to Mexico…and so I did. 

I could write a whole book about that experience. I shared my faith a number of times in Mexico City, and went through a time of great spiritual and personal growth. I was also able to witness to a family with a son going through grave sickness. He was expected to die in a week. That’s what the doctors said. In the hospital I prayed for the young man. He was unresponsive and on life support. A week later he was completely healed. The mother wanted to credit me, saying I was sent by God to heal her son, but I could not take any of the credit. It was all God’s power at work. Because of the miraculous healing of her son, and realizing it was God who healed him, the mother of the family developed a renewed faith and started a Bible study in her home. It’s quite amazing how God works!

I wanted to stay in Mexico. It didn’t work out. I came down with severe ulcerative colitis. I truly did have a dream of living in Mexico City. It was everything I was working for, but when I realized I could only get therapy for ulcerative colitis in the United States, my dream came crashing to the floor. It was hard being sick and dealing with a shattered dream at the same time, but I had to eventually surrender my plans for God had other plans for me. I just couldn’t see it at the time. Through my sickness God also witnessed to me immensely, speaking to me a number of times promising to restore me and make me strong and doing just that. 

I spent my first year out of college teaching in inner-city Houston, Texas. The big takeaway from that experience was the influence of the church I was a part of there. It was extraordinarily healthy. I needed to experience this after my rocky church experience as a teenager. I was a part of a study group and we went over the basics of our faith but in a indepth way. We studied topics of forgiveness, mercy, grace, glory…. These were all words I’d heard, but came to understand at a much deeper and more meaningful level. There too, in that group, I shared my faith story. I was so excited about it!

Through all the sharing of my story this, and every time, I notice in retrospect, I never have addressed repentance. That is to say, talking about asking God for forgiveness of sins through Christ Jesus. This is essential for salvation and a relationship with God. Without repentance, the relationship is damaged. There is separation from God. Jesus’ sacrifice makes it possible for the forgiveness of sins. He paid the price. If we repent and accept this forgiveness, it leads to the repairing of the relationship. It makes us right with God. Recently I’ve been pondering this as it pertains to my story. I’ve asked for forgiveness of sins countless times. It’s a continual thing. Growing up in a Christian family, I always had a solid understanding of sin and my need for forgiveness. 

When I share my story of faith, I have made it sound as if I first came to know God that day in chapel at Asbury. However, recently I’ve come to realize I did have a real and alive relationship with God as a child. I confessed my sin and prayed for forgiveness sometime as a small child, and it was real. I knew God to be real and He provided me immense comfort as a child. I had this burning desire, especially as an adolescent and young teenager, to study God’s word and know Him better, and I can recall a number of times the Spirit at work in me, speaking to me and prompting me. But during all this time, I had the faith of a child. Some might call it ignorance. I don’t think so. Rather I say pure faith. But then the world came in and corrupted it with all its confusion and all its doubt. My faith was tested, and it was tested severely. It went through the refiner’s fire for sure. I had to transition from my childhood faith to a mature faith. By mature faith I mean a faith put up to the test of the world. During the end of high school in my broken church, and in the early days of college, my faith faced that test of the world, and God carried me through. 

Now when I think back to when I was a child, I am so incredibly humbled and so full of praise and gratitude that God was pursuing me back then. How incredible that even with all the powerful figures of the world, the Lord and master of the universe, pursued a mere helpless child for His Kingdom. I am so blessed, and I am so nothing, yet He pursued me and continues to pursue me. Some think it’s crazy to believe in God, but after all I’ve experienced from my childhood to now, it would be simply crazy for me not to believe in God. 

I finished my story by telling Luke I was sick again, and I didn’t know what this meant. “I don’t know what God is teaching me, but it’s heavy and it weighs on me. Looking back I’ve seen God has carried me through a lot, and I believe he will carry me through again. I also need to remind myself of his promise to me ‘I will never stop doing good things for you.’ So all I can do is press onward in faith.” 

Upon finishing my story, Luke was eager to tell me his faith story too. In brief, and it was brief, according to him, he was tripping on acid and mushrooms in the woods and almost walked off a cliff, the very one we were sitting on. He then slipped into the spiritual realm and saw creatures with lots of eyes and the plants talking to him, and he felt God. That was it….The end. What can I say? Only God is the judge. I sincerely hope Luke has since found the richness of a true relationship with God.

My First Day Ever in Montana and Wrestling with God’s Promise

Something inside of me is dying, and I feel like death. These were the exact thoughts, exact words running through my mind. I was restless in my tent at night, rolling around on my sleeping bag. I had never felt quite like this before. I wasn’t in pain, for there wasn’t any sharpness of feeling. But there was this subtle aching, and even more so than a feeling, it was a knowledge that stirred within me. I was not well. I couldn’t get comfortable. My body was in utter forthright rebellion. Inflammation was raging on. The body was winning in this battle despite my will. I wanted to be well. I wanted to relax. The body wasn’t having it. Therefore my sleep was interrupted, shallow, brief, and before I knew it was morning.

The day before I had traveled from Lake Roosevelt National Recreation Area in Washington here to West Glacier, Montana. I had traveled nearly six hours, around Spokane, through the panhandle of Idaho, past St. Regis, Montana, and up the west side of Flathead Lake. In St. Regis I made one of my more notable stops of the day at the St. Regis Travel Center. Right off highway 90, just across the Idaho border in Montana. This gas station establishment boasts “restaurant, casino, Montana’s largest gift shop, expresso” and “free live trout aquarium.” I just pulled over to go to the bathroom. I didn’t need all this, but I’ll take it! (minus the casino). ! It was like the Montana version of Buccees. Here I was greeted by a bag of free popcorn and a near endless supply of Montana t-shirts, huckleberry everything; and every Montana, grizzly bear, and Western knick-knack and patty whack you could imagine. Many items were boasting common Montana mottos and phrases: “The Treasure State,” “Big-Sky Country,” “The Montana way,” “Grab life by the horns”…  I browsed around and didn’t purchase anything but was impressed by the inventory. In later summers working in Montana, I’d be back here a couple of times. 

Shortly I found myself traveling upside Flathead Lake. I didn’t know that was its name. All the places I’d see in the next few days I’d have much more experience, knowledge, and memories with in the future with my subsequent summers working in Montana, but now it was all new. When I write about my adventures I like to talk about my experiences and observations at that time. As difficult as it is, I make a conscious effort to restrict myself from injecting later knowledge and experiences of these places. So although now I know it was Flathead Lake, then it was just some big lake I was traveling by. I was impressed by such an immense lake. Why hadn’t I heard of this before? It is the largest lake in the U.S. outside of the Great Lakes. I stopped in the community of Lakeside. I was very hungry and found a little cafe right off the road. I went inside, but after seeing the prices, I decided to continue on. I wasn’t used to the tourist prices in the Flathead Valley.

Atop the lake lies the biggest city in the valley, Kalispell. My hunger was so ravenous. I stopped at a Kentucky Fried Chicken. It genuinely sounded so good to me. I know it was not the best choice for my gut, but I was in need of some comfort food. This solo traveler from Kentucky, a little bit weary and beaten down by health issues, needed a bit of comfort from back home. Now it is humorous, because I know of way better and nourishing choices in the valley for food. 

Leaving Kalispell, more and more tall pines filled in the landscape, and the road just seemed to roll along these wooded hills, swooping up and down with the great Rocky Mountains of Glacier National Park standing in the distance. Although the woods were everywhere, I did not feel nestled in the woods because the road was wide and beside it was a path for bikers and snowmobiles. Everything around me just seemed so big with the land and forest just so immense. I passed by a few tourist traps: “The Huckleberry Patch” and “Huckleberry Haven” boasting their huckleberry pie, and a western ranch style building called “ The Montana Fur Company” with a tipi and Native American relics outfront. Most prominent was this place called the “Ten Commandments Park,” with a dozen or so billboards situated together in a half circle, each loudly displaying a religious or political message. This seemed like something I’d see in Texas. Is Montana the Texas of the North? This I certainly thought.

Some National Parks have no real build up, not much of a tourist economy around it. Others, such as the Great Smoky Mountains, have an extreme excess. Glacier seemed to have a moderate amount of tourist build-up. The place seemed touristy, but not in an obnoxious way. Its quantity and quality was of such a way that it served the park well in building up just the right level of excitement and anticipation without being obnoxious or tacky. 

I wouldn’t make it into the park this evening but according to plan I would stay at the West Glacier KOA. I had read this was the flagship KOA. I’d stayed at many Kampgrounds Of America and had become a big fan, so to stay at the allegedly best of all KOAs was an exciting thing for me. I had noticed, while booking my stay online, that this KOA was also the one featured on the front cover of the KOA directory. This was big stuff! Rolling along wide wooded highway 2, suddenly to my right stood the big bold beautiful KOA sign made of rich dark wood with black letter insignia, and it didn’t say “Kampground” as most are identified, It read “KOA Resort.” Oooh, fancy!

I checked in at the office, where I also was given a free KOA koozie. I don’t drink, but I was still glad to have a KOA souvenir. The campground was enormous. I had a standard tent pad which backed up to some woods at the junction between where the cabin guests stayed and the RV area. I quickly set up my tent, because I was on a mission: I wanted to enjoy the hot tub, which I did. It was small and busy, but I enjoyed a nice warm soak. I then finished setting up my camp, blowing up my air mattress, and throwing my pillow and sleeping bags in the tent. I felt calm and relaxed walking around the campground and getting familiar with the place. There was a vibrant energy, a positive one of happy families on vacation and kids on their bicycles. I kept having to make frequent trips to the bathroom. Although I felt relaxed in many ways, my gut was not happy. 

I noticed on the resort map there were some little hiking trails in the woods just behind my site. I went on a stroll through the woods and there I decided to call my parents and let them know of my sickness. I had procrastinated telling them. I guess I was hopeful it’d just go away as suddenly as it seemed to come upon me, and therefore be a non issue. But I felt like now I was in for a long haul. I should let them know. Just talking about it and my experience with it so far was draining. I didn’t want to really talk about it. I wanted to ignore it, but I couldn’t.

Soon, after I settled in my tent for the night, and this was the night things took a major turn for the worse: Something inside of me is dying, and I feel like death. These feelings. After tonight, the illness would not just bother me but rage on. 

In the morning I ate at the KOA resort. It had a restaurant, with a nice outdoor patio. I ordered the Montana Breakfast of eggs, potatoes, and thick sausage patties. I was impressed by the quality here. In the subsequent days I’d learn this trio is the standard Montana breakfast almost everywhere. After breakfast, I was driving, for the first time ever, into Glacier National Park with great excitement. I was going to hike the famous Skyline Trail, which in my present state of health, would not be easy.  

As I was driving I thought back to what I would consider my greatest thoughts and reflections on this trip so far. I thought about Nurse Logs and the life-enriching ability one leaves behind after they have died. I considered  my previous thoughts on the colors of my sunset and the qualities of one’s life that can be evident and seen when a life comes to completion, or to put it more bluntly, one dies. There was so much thought about death, but not in any dark way, but in an inspiring way, thinking more about the quality of a life truly lived before time naturally runs out. I was only twenty-eight, not an age one normally contemplates what they leave behind upon their passing, but these were my thoughts. It was curious to me that shortly after these thoughts came to me unexpectedly my health had been taken from me to the point my mind spoke: “I feel like death.” 

Were my deepest thoughts and personal revelations preparing me for this, preparing for the end? It sounds very dramatic in retrospect, but in the moment it was quite sincere. The only other time my body was under this attack with ulcerative colitis brutally flaring was when I was in college and it was severe. There were the restless nights of rolling around the floor in pain, the hospitalization, the intense pain, the blood loss, the anemia, my body not digesting food, the malabsorption, the withering away, the affected eyes, the suffering teeth, the weakness, the fatigue, the fainting, the crying. The option of surgically taking out my colon wasn’t on the table, because the doctor believed I was too weak to survive the surgery. I look back and marvel how despite everything I continued onward. 

At that time of the first onset I was a student in education, and I was due for student teaching the next semester. With my current state of health I felt I just couldn’t do it. I informed my parents I was coming home. I notified the education department at my school, telling them I had to postpone my student teaching because of my health. Then, this decision sat horribly with me. I didn’t feel at peace about it at all. Although now officially unenrolled, I called a meeting with the dean of education. I knew how rigid and firm to policies and procedures the whole institution was. I felt embarrassed, but I was going to plead and beg them to let me back in the program. I wanted  to proceed with student teaching despite my health and weakness. I told the dean “I am very sick, but I may not get better. I may be like this for the rest of my life, so I don’t want to let this sickness stop me. I must learn to live with it.” 

I’ll never forget what the dean told me. Somewhat surprised looking at me square in the eyes, she said “Well, that says an awful lot about your character.” I was back in!  God gave me an inner strength and fierce resistance to face my illness while moving forward in life. . 

In the struggle I clung on with a tight grip to a harmony of Bible verses I felt God spoke directly to me, 1 Peter 5:10 and Phillipians 4:7 together: “After you have suffered a while, the God of grace Himself, whose knowledge surpasses all understanding, will restore you and make you strong in Christ Jesus.” 

It’s just for, “a while,” I thought. That helped me persevere. God will “restore” me and make me “strong.” That gave me hope. However, I was struggling with this. I wanted to believe it. I held the word of God to be true. It had proved itself over and over again to be so, but this night was exceptionally long, and there was no improvement in my health whatsoever. I felt myself slowly dying. What does this promise and these verses really mean?

One evening in my quiet time, alone in a little study nook in my university, in my sickly state with increasing complexity of illness, I was journaling and thinking over this promise of God. Then it dawned on me: I think I know what it means. The first part about “suffering a while,” well I was there, no doubt. I knew that to be true. The second part, “I will restore you and make you strong.” I struggled with that because I was not seeing it as I expected it to be, in this life. Maybe, that is the part God will accomplish when he calls me home. When I die. In his eternal presence I will be restored and he will make me strong. So maybe God is telling me, “After you have suffered a while, I will bring you home to restore you and make you strong.”

 It was profound to me and haunting in some ways. I didn’t want to die so young, but at the same time the notion was comforting in knowing that whether it be in life or be in death God restores me and makes me strong. I am victorious through Him, either way! I took a deep breath as though accepting my fate, not sure I felt ready for the responsibility set before me, to proceed into death with faith, resting on His promise. I zipped up my backpack, tucked away my journal and Bible, and carried on with life’s demand. Live strong and fiercely to the end. But oh what an ache it was still to my soul! This was a silent disease. Few would know. I’d be here and then I wouldn’t. 

God’s promise did hold entirely true, as it always does, and to my own heart’s desire, for God is good! I was restored and made strong in this life shortly after. 

When I look back at this period of sickness in my life, it doesn’t seem so dark, and actually never felt dark in the moment either, though it may seem so from the casual observer. Actually, I am extremely grateful for that time of sickness and for the wrestles with faith. These were times of some of the greatest spiritual intimacy and dependency on God in my life. His promise held so much more, too, than what I even thought at the time. When God promised to restore me and make me strong, I considered that just in the physical sense. God did mean that, but He also meant it in a spiritual sense. God would strengthen me spiritually beyond what I could see in the moment. To go through such an experience of facing a prospect of death so young and doing so walking hand in hand with God, I think produces a level of wisdom and maturity that I am eternally grateful for and has become an integral part of my character and outlook on life and death. I would never want to go back and relive those days, but I’d also never wish they didn’t happen. Dolly Parton captures the sentiment in her song The Good Olde Days When Times Were Bad: “No amount of money could buy from me, the memories that I have of then, No amount of money could pay me, To go back and live through it again.”


But now, what was happening to my body here on this journey out West, here at Glacier, with the return of this great grave sickness? My thoughts went back to this previous era of life, to the promises, to the pain, to the prospects. I didn’t want to have to face and reconsider everything, but here it was again, in my face (or in my gut rather). There was a bit of initial panic and I felt overwhelmed. What do I believe again? I saw how God’s promises applied back then, but how do they apply now? I thought I had closed that chapter and had moved on, but it was back. Was it the same chapter of life? No. This was chapter 2. I was more prepared in the spiritual sense. Something was about to go down (or come down rather).  That would soon become evident.

If you enjoyed reading this, check out my book Still, Calm, and Quiet“

Check out my previous entry here: Lake Roosevelt and the Conservationist vs. the Preservationist

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