It was 30 years ago when I found myself so sick that I couldn't get out of bed. I had spent all the money my mom had left me when she had passed three years before. I had been to every promising naturopath, acupuncturist, and M.D. that might help me. But with every doctor's prescription, I only found myself sicker. Until I finally took to my bed, and stayed there, convinced that I was going to die.
It was not the kind of sick that is a helpless kind of sick- I could still function. Yet, I was extremely weak, and had a great difficulty focusing on anything. I couldn't read and understand and understand what I was reading, so researching about my illness wasn't available for me (and internet hadn't hit the mainstream yet). I also couldn't follow conversation easily, so engaging with people was exhausting. As a result, I found myself isolated in my fear, alone with no-one to support me in what I was going through.
I was exhausted and scared. And I didn't realize it at the time, but I had begun to put myself in a little box of feeling sorry for myself. I think this is only natural for folks, until they realize what they are doing. I felt like a victim. And this made my illness even more exhausting.
But I had one thing going for me... I was already aware of God all around me. Several years earlier, I had experienced a big shift in perception, and I knew in my heart that my illness, and the fear of dying was taking me deeper into my relationship with God. And so, I began to open up to this Divine Presence. And I spoke of my fear, of my loneliness, and as days went on, I began to speak of my Love.
My fear and my loneliness were an open door for me to realize my Love for God. I was at the bottom...I felt no hope that I would ever get better. And in this place, I discovered a deep and very real Love for the Divine. This Love allowed me to open up to God all around me, because all I wanted was to voice this Love...to feel it deeply in my heart. And even if I did die, I would know that I had told God, and myself, the truth.
This Love drew God in closer, and my being delighted in opening up to this experience. Through this openness, I began to see that the "poor me" that had defined itself as a victim was not real. The illness had begun to expose an idea- that I was a victim of circumstance- as just an idea. This victim had kept me ill.
After seeing through this false sense of self, this victim, I began to feel better. I still wanted to open up to God, and to feel Her hold me, and know me. And so this became the primary focus of my days, and not my illness. And little by little, I became well. And it wasn't much later, that the illness was just a memory.