Woman of God

I have a murderous heart. If my mother’s attacker was human, I would defeat it…in fact, I would kill it. My mom suffers at the hand of a ruthless attacker. It is relentless…it simply won’t let up.

My precious mother suffers from a disease named after a man named Parkinson. I write this with tears welling up in my eyes. This cruel disease has taken an otherwise young 74 year old lady and increased her physical age by 20 years overnight. The best visual I could give you for her condition is that when she stands ‘upright’ she resembles a number 7…hunched over in a 90 degree angle down and to the right. Her spine curves to the left, right and then back left again. Some days her pain is simply unbearable…and she can do nothing but weep. Her tremors can sometimes be controlled with medication, but at times become uncontrollable and embarrassing to her spirit.

My mom’s condition got considerably worse when my father went to be with Jesus. My mother lost her soul mate and her health began to deteriorate immediately. It makes me sad to see pictures of my mom at my son’s one year old birthday party and then see her again when he turned two. It is a picture in opposites. She went from walking a mile a day to shuffling along with a walker looking over the top rim of her glasses in order to see her world. My mom’s desire is to look to Heaven but most often sees dirt. Her precious Spirit soars in the midst of a body that can’t.

Through it all, my mom’s faith has not wavered. I am so encouraged by this incredible woman of God. Spiritually, she stands tall. She is grace in the midst of an ungraceful circumstance.

Her favorite story from the Bible is from Luke 13. It’s the story where a woman had suffered for eighteen years with a disease perhaps like Parkinson’s, in which she was bent over…and then she met The Great Physician. Jesus saw a woman who resembled my mother and had great compassion for her. Jehovah Rophe laid His hands on her making her spine straight and upright. She immediately stood tall and glorified God. No wonder this is my mom’s favorite story. It offers her hope and a smile thinking that this might be her.

She is the woman. He is the Healer. I long to see you meet and watch as the Savior’s eyes well up with tears of compassion. He moves close and holds you tightly. He whispers, “Be healed, woman of faith.” I watch as your body is regenerated and you once again stand straight and upright. This was your time for healing. You dance and praise and give glory to your Healer and your God.

You are my hero in the midst of my physical trials. You are the hero to many. Your unfailing love and unwavering faith are a testimony to your Source of Life. Your Spirit is contagious. Your courage in sharing your faith to anyone that will listen is enviable. Woman of God, you will dance again.