He hit the floor in a blinding rage of emotions and disease. Crying big huge tears of defiance dripping off his face. With time, that episode passed and he crashed on the couch, passed out from fatigue. And yet again I questioned where is God’s healing we keep believing for?


When you yourself are fighting fatigue that even laying propped up requires too much energy to do, you find yourself fighting harder to hold onto faith. Rational thought is harder to keep hold of. When one is that tired, they grow irritable as well and I’m no different. Not to mention the infection causes rage and uncontrollable crying spells in a lot of people – that’s why Dash has his fits. Although I don’t drop to the ground in a fit of blind rage, like he often does, I do have to fight it hard, which is exhausting as well.

All the symptoms, the unrelenting power of this disease on the body and brain, it all spells disaster for ones faith. Seven years of believing while fighting for recovery, in the early months, quite literally fighting for my life, while raising three young boys, one of which is fighting for his own recovery from Lyme disease, is fall-on-the-floor-begging-God-for-a-break-of-any-kind-exhausting.

Daily we battle the disease and its ugly symptoms. Daily we fight to just get through our day without too much pain, fatigue, and crying spells. Every day I fight to keep a hold on my brain. As I type this, what I want to say isn’t computing, my brain isn’t able to grasp it all. I used to be a much better writer. I type words I don’t even mean to say. And have to hunt down the word “resin” for a project I’m doing because I couldn’t, for the life of me, remember that word even though I should have no problem remembering it. I could go on.


I was listening to a woman on Jacque Watkins podcast who had Lyme disease while raising young children. Fast forward, she sounds pretty good. Though I know sounds, and looks, can be very  deceiving when it comes to Lyme disease. She did say she has some residual effects from the disease but is doing better. It gave me some hope. Maybe that is the path my life will take. Maybe I’ll struggle with this illness for awhile longer but miraculously it’ll relent and I’ll fulfill the call on my life. Maybe just maybe this’ll be a distant memory for my son and I. Or maybe we’ll never get rid of it and will walk this rocky road for life. Only God knows exactly what our story looks like.

Some days faith comes easy. Most days, it’s hard. Dare I admit, some days I’m actually angry at God? How can I still be this sick when I passionately pray for others to be healed and absolutely believe that it’s God’s perfect will everyone be well? How can my son still be suffering like he does when I believe that Christ’s suffering at the Cross not only secured our salvation but also our physical healing? How can the enemy be slowing things down, if that’s what’s happening, when I know who I am in Christ and believe in the power of the Holy Spirit inside of me?

So, some days I cry out in anger. I shake my weak fists at the sky and ask how He can leave me hanging like this. Is it arrogance? Some may say so. Some may even say I sound like a brat. But God knows. God knows I’m just a hurting, sad, broken human being in need of a complete restoration. He knows I’m just a mom who is hurting to the core of her soul for her youngest son who has never known a healthy day in all of his 6 years of life. He knows it’s just misguided anger. He knows and I know but in the moment, I take it out on Him. And then I feel bad that I did.


Friend, it isn’t easy. I am not a great woman of faith. I’m just a regular human being who believes God is good all of the time. A gal who knows that He didn’t give this to me and my son but that He will redeem this not just for His glory but simply because He loves me and my son. Jesus told us who the real enemy is and it isn’t Jesus. Jesus is the life giver and Lyme disease isn’t life. This isn’t life and certainly not life in abundance. This is a killer, a stealer, and a destroyer. And yet even in this knowing, even in this belief in my heart, I still grow tired of the faith fight. I still have off days when I throw up my hands and say, if we aren’t healed then maybe this isn’t real. And then God does something that gently hugs me back into His reality.

He used my cousin to speak to my heart the other day. He spoke to me what I needed in that moment. He gave a piece of Himself to me when I thought I couldn’t do it any more. When I couldn’t possibly face another day of being his mom, their mom, Adam’s wife, or even myself. Not that I would end my life. Don’t misunderstand. But that I just couldn’t muster the literal strength to face the day with a smile, with joy, with patience, and with love. That I couldn’t possibly face another day without crying in a ball on the floor. He said through my cousin the following:

So as I was praying and lamenting, you come to mind. Your sweet Dash. So many years you’ve had to sit by and watch him suffer. Praying steadfastly no doubt. Losing sleep. Possibly losing your sanity sometimes. And God just impressed upon me that there is a reason you are his mother. You have such strength, such faith….. He chose you so specifically for him.

I’m not as diligent about my prayer list as I should be, but I want you to know that I will be praying for you and your sweet boy every morning on my commute. ‘Where two or more are gathered in His name…’ We’ll be gathered in prayer, just hundreds of miles away.

He sees me. He really sees me. He knows I’m here. He knows what I’m going through. He knows the suffering of my son. He understands what that feels like. He gets it. He really does. And He loves me through it. So much that He moved my cousin to send such a message of comfort and love. A cousin I just reunited with. A cousin who doesn’t know me all that well yet but loves me deeply with the love of Christ. A cousin who couldn’t possibly know in the flesh how much I needed those words. A cousin who simply chose to obey God’s prompting to reach out to me. God is so good to me.


So, while we both continue to fight. And lord help me it’s hard. I have Him in my corner, behind my back, in front of my face, carrying me at times when I need it the most. I have Him. And in Him, the peace and hope and strength to make it through the day with a smile, gentle voice, and kindness toward those around me.

And He has all the same things for you. No matter what you’re fighting, facing, dealing with – God has it, has the answer, has the miracle, is the miracle, gave the Son, who gave us all things… keep holding on sister. brother. Don’t let go of God. Be mad, be angry, be desperate, but always come back to the sweet honest truth of God’s undying love for you.

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