My Story in Song: Part 1
Our story begins on my living room floor, where I lay on my back feebly serenading the popcorn ceiling.
It had been months since my throat had spontaneously forgotten how to swallow, and I was starving. Still, as much as I wanted to, I couldn’t eat. It was terrifying. Throw a major panic attack into the mix, and I was downright petrified.
What was happening to me? Was I dying? Would I ever feel normal again? Would I ever recover?
In a last-ditch effort to trick my body into taking food out of sheer desperation, I had attempted to exercise, hoping that my subsequent appetite would override whatever was preventing me from eating. But the effort left me drained and dizzy, which is how I ended up on the floor.
Lord, I need You, oh I need You..."
It might have seemed like a strange time to offer worship, but I knew well that whatever happened next was completely out of my hands. Still, emboldened by the very real possibility of untimely demise, I gave God a choice.
“I don’t want to live like this anymore. You either take me now, or You fix me.”
Barely had a moment passed when I felt rather than heard a voice inside of me: Eat.
Eat? I was so tired, I didn’t even think myself capable of getting up off the floor. But the voice came again: Get up. Eat.
I was given just enough strength to desire movement before I received a Divine assist. A push from behind and a sudden upward pull and somehow, I was standing.
Eat. Eat. Eat!
Faster and more insistent now, the voice kept up its steady demand. Louder and louder, until it was practically screaming in my ear: EAT!!
I grabbed the food I had prepared ahead of time – toast and peanut butter – and practically shoved it in my mouth. I was afraid that I would reject it again, but by some miracle, that bite went down. Then another. And another.
As quickly as it came, the urgency vanished, and my throat resumed its childish protest. I wasn’t immediately cured, but it was a start. If nothing else, one thing was clear:
God wasn’t finished with me yet.