MY HEALING TESTIMONY

 By Paige Bridges

I discovered that I had breast cancer one night, on my way to the bathroom. I felt a large lump in my right breast and remember thinking to myself: So that’s how it’s going to be – Breast Cancer. That’s how I’m probably going to die. And right then and there I made the decision to hand it over to God. I saw it as a test … And I wanted to be faithful to wait on Him for the solution. Either take me Home or heal me. That was about 4-5 years ago.

 I kept it to myself for a long time, not even telling my husband. I didn’t want anyone trying to get me to go to the doctor. (Of course, I knew David would never do that but the rest of my family and friends might.) I researched breast cancer on the internet and came to the conclusion that I had a slow-growing tumor, which bought me precious time.

 However, earlier this year (2010) another tumor surfaced on my collar bone, evidence that the main tumor was spreading. Knowing that it would just be a matter of time before it spread to some of my internal organs, I decided to disclose the illness to family and close friends because I was starting to display outward symptoms that something was wrong, like a nagging cough that wouldn’t go away, for one. It was difficult to speak without having to stop and cough. And nausea had begun to set in, for which I had little control. I tried to downplay it for fear that my art students would all quit coming to class.

I will never know if I was right about my family and friends trying to force me to get medical help earlier on. The truth of the matter is that as soon as I let them know about my condition, they stepped up to surround me with prayer – LOTS of prayer – and moral support. My children were amazing. They came – often – to sit with me, cook meals, clean the house and do whatever they could to make life easier for David and me. I could write a book just about them! And my art students became the Best Friends a girl could only hope to have. They were so supportive and vowed to stay with me for as long as I would have them!

But I kept going downhill. By mid-July, I was very close to death. I was on oxygen and had stopped all regular activities like my art classes. I couldn't even go to church ... Seriously, I had just about given up hope that God would heal me. My husband - who stood by me faithfully and nursed me better than anyone could - was very perplexed. He really expected God to step in and perform a miracle ...

Back in December, 2009, the Lord had given David a scripture. It was based on 2 Kings, chapter 20.

¹ In those days Hezekiah became ill and was at the point of death. The prophet Isaiah son of Amoz went to him and said, "This is what the LORD says: Put your house in order, because you are going to die; you will not recover."

 ² Hezekiah turned his face to the wall and prayed to the LORD, ³ "Remember, O LORD, how I have walked before you faithfully and with wholehearted devotion and have done what is good in your eyes." And Hezekiah wept bitterly.

 ⁴ Before Isaiah had left the middle court, the word of the LORD came to him: ⁵ "Go back and tell Hezekiah, the leader of my people, 'This is what the LORD, the God of your father David, says: I have heard your prayer and seen your tears; I will heal you. On the third day from now you will go up to the temple of the LORD. ⁶ I will add fifteen years to your life. And I will deliver you and this city from the hand of the king of Assyria. I will defend this city for my sake and for the sake of my servant David.' "

King Hezekiah was given an additional 15 years of life after Isaiah told him he was about to die. David figured God was telling him that I would be given more time, too. But every time he prayed about it, I would only get worse!

Well, I had decided early on in my illness that I would NOT seek medical help for my tumor. And I never wavered from that decision. If the Lord was telling me it was time to "come Home," then that's what I was prepared to do. BUT, if He chose to heal me and keep me here, I wanted it to be in such a way that only God would get the glory! So when we got a phone call about a woman oncologist from Tyler, TX, asking permission to come visit me, I took it as a sign that God was wanting to keep me here. After all, I had not sought her out; she asked to come see me!

Dr. Sasha Vukelka had heard about my illness from my son-in-law Ken. Ken is the business manager for Dr. Vukelja's husband, a dermatology specialist. And she was told that I was not really seeking medical help. Nevertheless, I believe she felt compassion for me because of Ken, who was very worried that I was going to die. And I think she sincerely believed that she might be of some help. So when she came to see me, I really had no expectation that it would do any good. I was not going to have surgery, chemo therapy and radiation - all the usual treatments for breast cancer. Surprisingly, she didn't scold me for not seeking medical help! Instead, she asked if I would let her put me on something called “hormone therapy.” A simple pill-a-day treatment that would cause the tumor to stop its growth and the lesion to dry up.

That day was Sunday afternoon, July 18^th. I did allow her to examine me and afterward she handed me a bottle of hormone tablets called Femara. She also told me an incredible story about how she came to have them. She said these hormones were very difficult to get and when she was still at the hospital, knowing that she was going to come see me, she tried sending my daughter Carrie a text message with orders to pick up a prescription for the generic form of these hormones. The text wouldn’t go through for some reason, but at the same moment, a home health care worker was coming down the stairs of the hospital, clutching a small, brown paper bag. She walked up to Dr. Vulkelja and said, “You know, when we lose a patient we are supposed to flush all their medications down the toilet. Never save anything. But for some reason, I felt strongly that I needed to bring these to you; that someone might need them!” And she handed over a 4-month supply of the Femara hormone tablets!

So I agreed to try it.

Within 2 days I started feeling improvement! My breathing became more normal and the awful coughing stopped completely. Within 2 weeks, I had resumed all my normal activities - teaching and working in my custom frame shop - and today feel almost like I did before this thing struck!

Earlier this week (as I write I am finishing up week #6) Dr. Vulkelja phoned to see how I was doing. She cried out, on hearing my voice, that she almost thought she had the wrong number – my voice was so much stronger now. Then she surprised me by telling me that she had managed to round up 13 more bottles of the Femara – 13 months’ worth – and would send them to me. Praise God!

David and I were reminded of the Biblical story when God commanded something in the physical to be done for King Hezekiah’s boil:

 ⁷ Then Isaiah said, "Prepare a poultice of figs." They did so and applied it to the boil, and he recovered.

It is entirely possible that King Hezekiah had cancer, not a boil, as we think of boils. And Isaiah had given orders for a poultice to be made and applied. Is that really any different from the hormone tablets that Dr. Vulkelja gave me? We think not.

I think it’s unfortunate that King Hezekiah required a sign from God, though.

⁸ Hezekiah had asked Isaiah, "What will be the sign that the LORD will heal me and that I will go up to the temple of the LORD on the third day from now?"

 ⁹ Isaiah answered, "This is the LORD's sign to you that the LORD will do what he has promised: Shall the shadow go forward ten steps, or shall it go back ten steps?"

 ¹⁰ "It is a simple matter for the shadow to go forward ten steps," said Hezekiah. "Rather, have it go back ten steps."

 ¹¹ Then the prophet Isaiah called upon the LORD, and the LORD made the shadow go back the ten steps it had gone down on the stairway of Ahaz.

There’s also more to be gleaned from this story; things that the Lord showed me that need to be emphasized. For instance, I always thought this story of King Hezekiah’s healing and being given 15 more years of life came with a curse. (I was wrong, of course.) Here’s why I thought that:

 ¹² At that time Merodach-Baladan son of Baladan king of Babylon sent Hezekiah letters and a gift, because he had heard of Hezekiah's illness. ¹³ Hezekiah received the messengers and showed them all that was in his storehouses—the silver, the gold, the spices and the fine oil—his armory and everything found among his treasures. There was nothing in his palace or in all his kingdom that Hezekiah did not show them.

 ¹⁴ Then Isaiah the prophet went to King Hezekiah and asked, "What did those men say, and where did they come from?" 
      "From a distant land," Hezekiah replied. "They came from Babylon."

 ¹⁵ The prophet asked, "What did they see in your palace?" 
      "They saw everything in my palace," Hezekiah said. "There is nothing among my treasures that I did not show them."

 ¹⁶ Then Isaiah said to Hezekiah, "Hear the word of the LORD : ¹⁷ The time will surely come when everything in your palace, and all that your fathers have stored up until this day, will be carried off to Babylon. Nothing will be left, says the LORD. ¹⁸ And some of your descendants, your own flesh and blood, that will be born to you, will be taken away, and they will become eunuchs in the palace of the king of Babylon."

 ¹⁹ "The word of the LORD you have spoken is good," Hezekiah replied. For he thought, "Will there not be peace and security in my lifetime?"

You see, I equated this healing with his foolishness at showing off all his wealth to the Babylonian envoys. That’s not the case at all! 2 Chronicles 32: 24 makes it very clear:

 ²⁴ In those days Hezekiah became ill and was at the point of death. He prayed to the LORD, who answered him and gave him a miraculous sign. ²⁵ But Hezekiah's heart was proud and he did not respond to the kindness shown him; therefore the LORD's wrath was on him and on Judah and Jerusalem. ²⁶ Then Hezekiah repented of the pride of his heart, as did the people of Jerusalem; therefore the LORD's wrath did not come upon them during the days of Hezekiah.

Apparently, King Hezekiah got well but neglected to praise God for his healing; instead he became proud and boastful, showing off all his wealth and bragging about his kingdom to Babylonian strangers who – no doubt – were sent to spy out the land. They had heard he was “near death,” and showed up to see if it was true, with an eye to stealing the kingdom away. Since he was not sick when they showed up, they just waited 15 years and then swooped down on the land and took it captive.

King Hezekiah was thinking only of himself when he spoke thus: “The word of the LORD is good.” For he thought, “At least there will be peace and security in my lifetime.”

From those last passages, I believe the Lord is showing me that yes, I have been given more time to be here, but how will I spend that time? Will I be like King Hezekiah and grow proud and forget that it was the Lord that gave me this “new lease on life?” Or will I use this time to seek out opportunities to bear my testimony and let others know what a loving God we have and how willing He is to play a part in our lives, IF we will only let him?

Thank you for taking the time to read this. There's really much more to tell, but this is enough for now. I do indeed give God all the glory for my healing and rejoice that I can share my story with someone every day.

August 28, 2010

There's more to the story ...

There are a couple of details that were left out of this story that really need to be added. About halfway through my sickness, and after I had revealed it to our congregation, our associate pastor Mike Donahue spoke to me and said the Lord told him that this (cancer) was "not unto death," that he didn't see me dying. Since Mike is also a prophet and takes that calling very seriously, I believed him. In fact, many times later on, I would recall that statement and it always lifted me up.

However, I continued to worsen. Then, about the beginning of July, Mike spoke to me again and said, "This test is not for you but for someone else." And I nodded in agreement. I had actually spoken the words that if I was meant to go Home to the Lord, then so be it. BUT, if the Lord chose to heal me, then please let it be in such a way that only HE gets the glory! And He did! I truly believe the Word the Lord gave Mike was true and that He would intervene so that MANY would see what He'd done for me and believe.

One more note: Some may wonder what would I do when the 4-month supply of Femara ran out. Well, Dr. Vulkelja surprised me by sending me more than 2 years' worth of hormone tablets. Praise God from Whom all blessings flow! As a thank you gesture I presented her with an original pastel painting (below) which my husband aptly named "Serenity Lane." I believe it will have a happy home among many other beautiful, original works of art in Dr. Vukelja's offices.

P.S. Since I wrote this testimony, I have talked with 2 other women who were prescribed the same little pill … Both said it didn’t help them at all!  I also have a relative who is a professional internist and he told us that this pill was not designed "to do what it did.” He was astounded. It is meant to be used in conjunction with radiation and chemo therapy. Sadly, some have told me that if I’d “only gone to the doctor and gotten that pill,” I would have been cured right away. Well, I don’t think so. I believe it has totally to do with God’s intervention. For whatever reason, He decided to do it this way. And, once more, that’s good enough for me! 

Serenity Lane

Shawn was just fifteen when he came to live with us. We already had a woman from our congregation staying here as she was between jobs and needed a roof over her head. So when David, my pastor husband, came home one evening with this scruffy boy in tow, telling me that he was “going to stay with us for a while,” I was less than thrilled.

            Shawn, it seems, was about to be arrested and the officer told my husband that if he didn’t take him in, Shawn was going to jail. (I think he was caught breaking and entering.)

Opal, our houseguest, brightened at the prospect of a young boy to mother and went right to work making him feel at home. He was, after all, not a bad-looking boy. He had a medium build, shaggy brown hair and a shy smile. I could also see that his twinkling blue eyes were dangerously disarming, but I hung back, surveying the situation, not knowing how to reconcile the conflicting feelings I was having. On the one hand, it was the “Christian” thing to do – receive this boy. And more than anything I wanted to serve the Lord by being obedient. After all, Isaiah 58 is our church’s vision:

 “Is this not the fast that I have chosen… to share your bread with the hungry … to bring to your house the poor who are cast out?”

But on the other hand, it was a huge imposition. The truth was that we already had one extra mouth to feed … And where was he supposed to sleep? Over the years we had raised five kids but they were long gone and so their bedrooms converted to other uses. Now here we were with one more teenager -  and this one, I sensed, was going to be trouble.

            The next few days were adjustment times for all of us. Opal continued to lavish love and attention on Shawn, throwing herself into mealtime preparations with unusual gusto, and my husband did his best to balance this new responsibility with his church duties and work. I, however, continued to hang back. I was fighting resentment and not doing too terribly well at hiding it. My prayers felt like lead balloons, falling back down to earth.

            Then one Saturday, about a week or so into this arrangement, as I was busily typing the bulletin for the Sunday service, my husband came over to my desk and said he was leaving to conduct a Bible study and that he had given permission for Shawn to go visit a friend up the street.  I kissed him good-bye and continued typing. A few minutes later Shawn came to me to say he was leaving to walk to his friend’s house. I said that was fine, I’d see him late, and went back to my typing. I heard the front door open and close.

            But suddenly, for some unknown reason, a sense of uneasiness swept over me.  I quickly stood up and left my desk. Heading for the dining room, which is situated between my workroom and the front door, I stopped and looked at my pocketbook on the table. Somehow I knew Shawn had just been in my purse! I unzipped it and looked inside. I was right. The checkbook was lying on top, upside down. (I always place it folded side up. A girl knows her pocketbook!) And a simple check of my billfold’s contents revealed that I was missing a $20 bill.

            “Well, that figures,” I thought to myself. “That’s just what you get when you take a little thief into your house! Why should I be surprised?”

But I was surprised. And very disappointed, too. I realized then that I had begun to warm to this boy. He really did have a sweet personality, he had begun to fit into our family and was becoming openly affectionate. He seemed genuinely glad to have us in his life. But apparently it was all just an act. Shawn was nothing but a con.

            I rushed to the phone to call my husband. I couldn’t wait to tell him what his “pet project” had done! After all, he was the one who had brought this little petty thief into our home, without asking, in the first place!  As soon as I got him on the telephone I immediately unloaded; relieved at last to tell him what a failure this little experiment in social work had turned out to be. David sounded surprised at the news but said simply that he’d “take care of it” when he got home. I hung up the phone and went smugly back to my typing and waited for him to come home.

            As I’d seen him do so many times with our own children over the years, when some kind of discipline was needed, David took Shawn aside privately that evening and revealed to him that his act was discovered. But, of course, Shawn completely denied it. They spent a long time in discussion with David letting him know that it’s one thing to put one over on us, but it’s quite another to try to put something over on God! Still, Shawn just blew it off.

            Of course, I hoped that the boy would suddenly be stricken with conscience and confess, but apparently that wasn’t going to happen. And since he was still staying on here, I decided to be more careful about my pocketbook and not give him any more opportunities.

            Monday morning I met with several of the women in our church sanctuary for our usual prayer circle. (You can be sure I righteously prayed for Shawn and the whole situation.) These ladies had recently started a little “flower kitty” that each of us made contributions to whenever we met for prayer, so it surprised me when one of the them approached me afterward with her hand extended as though she had something to give me. When I held out my hand, she dropped some money into it! I asked her what it was for and she said the others thought it might come in handy right now since we had two extra mouths to feed at our house. Somehow I felt obliged to accept, so I thanked her, asked her to extend my appreciation to the other women, and headed home.

            When I got to the car I counted the kitty change and it came to exactly $19.50. “Wow,” I thought, “God has replaced that twenty dollar bill – or just about!” And it put within me such a heart of thanksgiving that for the next several days, my joy returned. It made me realize how much in touch God is with the problems we deal with on a daily basis. I felt His concern for our situation and that He would provide for all of our needs. I forgot about the stolen money.

     Peace was beginning to settle into our home, and despite the fact that Shawn had yet to own up to his crime, we were all getting along pretty well. Opal continued to give him unconditional love and I had come to accept the fact that being a petty thief was just one of his shortcomings but that if his other qualities could be brought out and appreciated, he wasn’t such a bad person. In every other way, he seemed to have a good attitude. I just learned to keep an eye on my purse.

Saturday came around as usual and my mind was filled with the regular routines of the day. But this day was somehow different. Shawn and I were getting closer and my feelings of resentment were quickly fading. He was no longer just some troubled teenager to me but a real person. He was a fifteen-year-old who had suffered too many defeats and disappointments in his young life; someone who had had a lot of good reasons to rebel in the natural. I was learning more about his background and his family life. And it was terribly sad. His older brother had already gone to prison and his parents seemed resigned that this son would end up there as well. They didn’t want him back home and resolutely ignored the fact that he’d moved in with us. They were no doubt glad to be rid of him.

            I just wish I could remember more of the details of that day. Looking back on it, I can still feel the joy of victory. Shawn had slept in late. David and Opal had gone down to the church so I was otherwise alone in the house. Somewhere I stumbled onto this little handwritten note  “To: Paige” and I instinctively knew it was from Shawn. I just didn’t know what it was all about. I opened the note and it said simply, “Look in the washer.” Curious, I immediately walked to the laundry room and opened the lid to the washing machine. Inside the empty drum was another note “To: Paige” and written inside were instructions to “Look in the dryer.” O.K., I thought, I’ve done this before when I was a kid and loved to play Treasure Hunt. The treasure, when I was young, was always a handful of my grandmother’s homemade oatmeal cookies. But in this case, I hadn’t a clue as to what to expect.

            Looking into the empty dryer I spotted a bigger, folded-up piece of paper lying on the bottom and when I lifted it out, I could feel that it was heavy, as though it were wrapped around something bulky. When I unfolded it, to my surprise, there were four dollar bills and two quarters! The note read:

Paige,

Hi. Well I’ll just get down to the main thing. O.K. I know that I stole the 20 from you and I know that I hurt you by doing it but I did repent over it and I do say I’m sorry. I will repay you the $20.00 dollars (sic) as soon as I get (sic), in the mean time hear (sic) is $4.50. I will get the rest of it to you later.

            Love,

            Shawn

P.S. I was to (sic) ashamed to talk to you about it.

            The amount of joy and exhilaration I felt were beyond description. Now I understood what Victory in Jesus meant! There was such a sense of satisfaction in knowing that if we sacrificed some of our time and energy for this young boy in faith, showing him the love of Jesus by our lives, we could hope to see him come to repentance and restoration. Seeds of love had been planted in fertile soil and were now beginning to sprout! This would not be the whole story for Shawn, but at least it was a good beginning. It promised to make going to church the next morning a more meaningful occasion than it had been for me in a long time.

            And Sunday morning was glorious. The whole congregation was present and milling about like a stable full of horses, antsy and filled with anticipation. There was a feeling of congeniality, love, appreciation and family. We knew Jesus was there and we welcomed the Holy Spirit. Our little church was growing in numbers and also growing in the Lord. Pastor David (he’s my pastor, as well as my husband!) took the platform and proudly announced that since we were growing so quickly we would begin taking a special offering to purchase a new fiberglass baptismal pool and pointed to an offering can on the stage. Children were designated to collect the change and, on impulse, I remembered the $4.50 – still folded up in my purse where I had placed it the day before. Without fanfare I collected it and motioned for Shawn to come, take my special offering and put it in the can. He did.

            We were then standing and Pastor David called out a page number for the first hymn. Out of the corner of my eye I remember seeing a petite lady named Alma leave her seat, from clear across the sanctuary, and make her way toward me, but I paid no special attention. I was thumbing through the hymnal, trying to find the right page. Suddenly I looked up and saw Alma standing in front of me. She spoke these words as she held out her hand:

            “I don’t know why, but the Lord just told me to give this to you. It doesn’t seem like very much.” And she seemed genuinely puzzled and half apologetic.

            In her hand were two quarters. Without thinking, I accepted her offering, gave her a hug, put the quarters in my jacket pocket, and continued with the song service.

            We had invited a few friends over to the house for lunch following church that day, so I didn’t really have an opportunity to reflect on the strange gift from Alma. It wasn’t until after the meal, when I decided to lie down for a few minutes, that the thought of it came flooding back into my mind and I sat straight up in bed!

            The Lord has just settled His account with me!

And I nearly missed it!

            Upon reflection I realized that had I NOT given the $4.50 to the Lord as an offering for the baptismal pool, more than likely the Lord wouldn’t have given Alma her “special assignment” and I would have missed out on a fabulous miracle and testimony. By adding those two quarters to the monies from the “flower kitty,” the Lord effectively replaced the entire stolen $20 bill!

            I believe this miracle has a very simple explanation. But it would only have meaning for me.  You see, I am not as easily given to acts of charity as my husband.  For as long as I’ve known him he has been blessed with a very caring, loving nature and possesses a true pastor’s heart. He can forgive very easily and is long-suffering. Jesus is always first in his life. I, on the other hand, tend to be cynical, with one foot usually planted firmly in the world. It takes a lot of effort for the Lord to do anything – it seems – in my life.  This time, however, because I made the effort to let the Lord work in my life, instead of resisting Him - which is the natural tendency - He rewarded me, sending a miracle intended to let me know that no one would ever successfully defraud me or take advantage of me, as long as I was obedient and attempted to do His will!

            I would hope this testimony would encourage others to step out and become more involved with some of the most needy, lost people of our communities.  As Christians, we should stop worrying that somehow we’re going to lose something or be done out of something. God is well able to finance any assignment He hands out. Shawn was handed to us. The Lord made sure we wouldn’t live to regret it.

February 9, 2004