You’ve Got Mail #16

Dear Jahar,

Once again, I fought with myself before deciding to share something I experienced on Friday morning. Having finally decided this experience has faith-building capability, I am writing about it now.

In my small apartment, my very small bathroom has two doors, making it accessible from the hallway or the bedroom. It also makes the very small bathroom even smaller. When I first moved in, wanting to improve the layout and make the space more functional, I closed and locked the hallway entrance. On one side of this locked door, out in the hallway, I stored my ironing board and a stepladder. On the other side, I set a basket of magazines and the usual supplies one would expect to find in a bathroom. The room is still small, but way more functional.

About a month ago, I began experiencing symptoms of a sinus infection and called my doctor for an antibiotic. After I filled the prescription, the symptoms seemed to subside so I never started taking the medicine but stashed the bottle on a shelf in the bathroom.

Those two unrelated bits of detail will come into play in a moment.

This past Friday morning, I woke up very early and watched two sermons on TV as is my regular habit. Then I went back to sleep on the same couch on which I’d spent the night. Why I sleep on the couch in the living room rather than the bed in my bedroom is a story for another day.

I woke up several hours later, very hungry, thirsty and needing to use the bathroom – the normal state of morning affairs. As I began the act of rising from the couch, a sudden wave of severe vertigo like I’d never felt before, slammed me back onto the couch. The room literally went sideways. I lay there stunned. When it happened a second time, I became shaky and nauseous.

At this point I was afraid to move. The problem was, I really needed to use the bathroom. Getting there though was going to be a challenge in my current state. I suddenly regretted having long ago locked and barricaded the closest door to the couch.

By sheer will, on my third attempt, I staggered down the hall, holding onto the walls and around the corner, making it as far as the bathroom before an incredible wave of vertigo forced me back to the couch. Only the close proximity of the bathroom vanity prevented me from hitting the floor.

I collapsed back on the couch in a state of panic and lay there for nearly another hour. When I was able to reach for my cell phone and start texting, then calling anyone close by I could think of, no one could help. My last hope was an older friend who lives nearby. She has a bad hip and can’t climb stairs. I live on the third floor. She agreed to pick up a prescription for me if I would call my doctor for one and find a neighbor to come downstairs and get it from her.

That was when I remembered I had just filled an antibiotic and not yet taken it. So that was my first break. But again, I had to get to the bathroom to get it. I hung up the phone from my friend and tried again to stand.

I was immediately forced back onto the couch. I couldn’t even stand now much less walk. Once more, fear hit me. I was alone. No one was coming to help me. I was in real trouble and I knew it.

I lay there thinking about how bad my stomach hurt from hunger and how badly I needed to pee (sorry to be so blunt). All of a sudden I remembered something, a Bible verse: Ps 46:1 “He is a very present help in trouble.”  And then I remembered Deuteronomy 31:6, the verse where God promises “I will never fail you or forsake you.”

Lying there, I told God I knew He was with me and that He had promised to be a very present help in times of trouble. I reminded Him He had promised never to leave me, fail me, or forsake me. I told Him I was in trouble. And then I began to get excited, waiting to see what God would do…

I then realized there was one thing I hadn’t yet done.

The seventy returned with joy saying, “Lord, even the demons are subject to us in your name.” And He said to them,”I was watching Satan fall from heaven like lightning. Behold, I have given you authority to tread on serpents and scorpions, and over all the power of the enemy, and nothing shall by any means harm you.” Luke 10: 17-19

So, as faith rose up in me, I spoke these words out loud, “In the name of Jesus, I command the spirit of infirmity to leave me.” And then I tried to stand.

No vertigo.

I walked slowly down the hall, stopping to move the stepladder and ironing board. No vertigo. I rounded the corner into the bathroom. No vertigo. I unlocked the hall door from inside, moved the magazines and other stuff,  did what I needed to, grabbed the prescription bottle and walked out. No vertigo. Stopping in the kitchen, I grabbed a bottle of water and the first pre-packaged food item I saw in the fridge and returned to the couch.

No vertigo.

It is a frightening experience to be all alone, sick or injured or otherwise in need and find that no one is coming to your aid. It is a joyous experience to discover there is One Who never leaves us, never fails us. His name is Jesus.

It comforts me to know He is with us both as we live life alone, for now…

All my love, Jahar.


Walking around these walls,

I thought by now they’d fall,

But You have never failed me yet.

Waiting for change to come,

Knowing the battle’s won,

For You have never failed me yet.

Your promise still stands.

Great is Your faithfulness, faithfulness.

I’m still in Your hands.

This is my confidence:

You’ve never failed me yet.

I know the night won’t last.

Your word will come to pass.

My heart will sing Your praise again.

Your promise still stands.

Great is Your faithfulness, faithfulness.

I’m still in Your hands.

This is my confidence:

You’ve never failed.

Your promise still stands.

Great is Your faithfulness, faithfulness.

I’m still in Your hands.

This is my confidence:

You’ve never failed me yet.

I’ve seen You move.

You move the mountains.

And I believe I’ll see You do it again.

You made a way where there was no way.

And I believe I’ll see You do it again.










2 thoughts on “You’ve Got Mail #16”

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s