This is a dangerous blog.

About two weeks ago, I hurt my back. Bad. I was running 2+ miles every day, and on the 5th day of that, my body fought me back.

I was laid up. I took a punch of pain medicine that I had left over from when I hurt my neck a few months ago, but then pushed myself too hard, didn't rest, and ended up in a worse spot than where I was before.

 

I finally sucked it up and went to the back specialists I have been to before. Steroids, muscle relaxers, pain killers, and x-rays, and I was in a sad state of not being able to stand or sit, let alone work out. For about a week. And in that time, I ate. A lot. I felt sorry for myself so I let some old friends back into my life and my misery.

And it made the misery worse.

Over the weekend, a few friends offered to pray for my back, to heal me. I reluctantly agreed. They had faith. I didn't. It felt a little better, but didn't really fix anything. I kept taking all the meds I was supposed to take, and I kept laying on the couch, waiting for things to improve.
Here's where it gets dangerous.

I've been going to this bible study at church about the Holy Spirit. Really, it's about the fact that we limit God to what we believe He can do. I believe God can only do some things. Because if I believe He can do ALL things, that would make my world really messy and force me to change. So I keep God in this neat little package and don't hope for too much.

Every week, the group asks who needs prayer for healing. Now let me remind you, a few months ago, I can't say that I believed in this stuff. It felt like a show on a low-budget cable station with the ultimate goal of getting money from unsuspecting viewers. But last night, I felt God calling me out, asking me "Liz, do you trust me?"

So I asked for prayer. And my friends prayed over my back. And my friend Hannah said "I feel like you need to go out and run down the hallway." So I did it. And I had no pain.

Remember, yesterday morning, I was completely crooked and could barely stand up straight. But last night, I looked like a fool, jogging down a church hallway.

I got home last night, and I didn't take any medicine. I didn't finish the steroids that I had, I didn't even take any ibuprofen. I felt like God wanted to show me that He could heal me completely.

Do I trust Him?

It's no secret that God wants to heal every single solitary part of our lives. But it's also no secret that I don't believe every single solitary truth about God. Can He do anything? Yes. Can He heal my physical pain? Yes. Does He love me unconditionally? Yes.

And the answers to all of those questions seem to shift like sand in my daily life. I have been healed, so why do I operate each day as if I haven't been?

“Therefore everyone who hears these words of mine and puts them into practice is like a wise man who built his house on the rock. The rain came down, the streams rose, and the winds blew and beat against that house; yet it did not fall, because it had its foundation on the rock. But everyone who hears these words of mine and does not put them into practice is like a foolish man who built his house on sand. The rain came down, the streams rose, and the winds blew and beat against that house, and it fell with a great crash.” - Matthew 7

Feeling foolish? Yeah. Me too.

-Liz