The Nature of God – Part 9
[If you are just now stumbling onto this post without having read the various parts in this series from the beginning, I strongly urge you to go back to the start and continue on from there through each successive post. None of these individual entries stand on their own, and you may wind up with little but confusion and unanswered questions by starting here. That is easily done by entering “The Nature of God” in the search box on the home page, which will list links to all available parts.]
This is a short post along the same lines of healing as I described in Part 7, except it’s less embarrassing. Headaches are highly preferable to talk about. Perhaps a couple of years later, I was pulling into a production facility for my new employer, and another migraine headache was signaling an impending strike. I’d frequently had them since high school. Fortunately, they weren’t the cluster type, or accompanied by puking or curling into a fetal position. They were more ordinary migraines. You get flashing blind spots in your vision and can’t see to read or drive safely. The only way to see straight ahead is to glance off to the side and use your peripheral vision as best you can. Then you lose your appetite, and a deep, attention-absorbing constant pain sets in, and brightly lit areas become hell to be in. No pain killer could dampen it back then. You needed to lie down in silence, with something over your eyes to completely block out the light for several hours. It was difficult to fake being normal, with half-closed eyes and a difficulty in walking straight. Some hours later, when it was finally gone, the echo of it would remain for a half-day or more, and shaking or moving your head quickly would ache something fierce, as if your brain had shrunk and was now rattling around in there, bruised and sore.
Since I was just arriving at this facility and had to meet with some people, I was in dismay. The blinding flashes were in full force, and the pain was just starting in. What to do? I was never one to say, “Oh, I have to go home, I have a migraine.” It’s a perception thing. People equated it with normal headaches, which are far different in nature. You take some pain killer and tough those out. I’d had only a couple of those in my life, and they were highly preferable. But desperate men do desperate things, and I sat in the car and prayed to God for healing, explaining why I wanted such a thing. I knew God had better things to do, but I had this problem, see.
When I’d finished my little prayer, I suddenly felt even less like toughing it out and heading on in. “Proceeding in faith” did not appear to be an option – you know, step boldly out and start walking, confident that the Almighty and the Power of Prayer will keep me upright. In fact, I started feeling really groggy, as if I were an antelope shot with a tranquilizer gun in the old TV show Wild Kingdom. I struggled even to stay awake, but couldn’t seem to. I was even too groggy to panic. What if somebody came out and saw me sleeping in the car? Instant career/job disaster. Apprehensive as I was, I couldn’t resist it. I slouched over across the seat, and out I went like a light. When I awoke, hopefully only a minute later, the flashing was gone, and I seemed to be shoved past the headache part and well into the don’t-shake-your-head aftermath. I was thankful, but too preoccupied with wanting to be out of the car and looking like I was a productive employee to dwell on it. I may not have been tight with God, but apparently, He was still there, still listening, and still acting.
I had little idea that this would throttle-up in the future, but wouldn’t involve healing any more. That isn’t what I would need the most.