When I was twenty I got rheumatoid arthritis, or actually, a variant of it. It is not quite rheumatoid arthritis, but it is similar. Because peripheral spondyloarthritis is not a term everyone uses, I refer to it as rheumatoid arthritis. The disease is basically similar: joints get infected because of what doctors believe is a faulty immune response. The body attacks itself.

My knee started swelling up like a balloon. At first it was not such an issue; I could still do most things. However, gradually, it became more painful. Then a painful hip was also added to the mix. After a few years, it was under control with medication. However, my hip did not escape: it got worn out. When an infection in a rheumatic disorder is not fully under control, the cartiledge in the affected joint gets worn out. In other words, it is like a hinge from a door that does not have sufficient oil. It  does not work well, and movement causes great pain.

During this debilitating process I prayed a lot. I had people pray for me a lot. I heard about diet, and got my vitamin levels tested. I did indeed have a low level of vitamin D. Perhaps this did indeed play a role. I did take vitamin D supplements, though I could have done this more consistently. My illness kept on going. I don’t know the reason; it could be that I did not listen to God well enough about about the vitamin D and diet. However, later on I also heard a powerful prophecy: “It is not your fault”.

When you are involved in a more evangelical/charismatic group of Christians, it is great that you can learn about the power of the Holy Spirit, and you know that God can heal. Simultaneously, you can feel more pressure and pain when He doesn’t. Why doesn’t God heal? Is it my lack of faith? Is it others’ lack of faith? I wanted God to heal me so terribly.

The illness was very painful. At a certain point in time I could hardly do anything. I got so depressed. I sent the depression away in Jesus’ name, and I do think God healed me from that. But not from the arthritis. At least not in the way I had expected, or would expect.

I learned to continue living, and learned the power of community. I learned about the importance of being real with others, and the importance of being there for others.  (The latter is something, to be honest, that I still have to learn more about). It was important to share pain with others and no longer bottle it up. It was important to learn to let my tears out, and my disappointment with God. I always shared everything with Him, from the beginning on, but I still had to learn to accept that grief exists. I needed to accept that these too are emotions that I can feel. Crying it out enables you to laugh with joy at other moments.

I learned something else. A very hard thing. Once I went to a prophetic evening, and the second time someone prayed for me there, she said that God wanted to say “I am enough”. God is enough. That is a hard, but the most beautiful thing to learn. I’m still learning, but the beginning is there. In God’s presence there is fullness of joy. I have learned to enjoy the love and the presence of Jesus. I also know that He has been through suffering more than I can imagine. That He loves, loves, loves, and loves…

So He has been healing. He has been healing my emotions. He has been teaching me. This last year, He has been teaching me more about trust, as I am so good at worrying about little things. It is/was one of my talents.

And… last year I had a hip replacement operation. It was a glorious occasion. I was upset that it was necessary, but on the day itself I was often gloriously happy. I also got my master’s thesis grade back that day: a 9. It is a year later now, and it is great to say that my hip is doing so much better. I feel like a young woman again, and not like a woman of fifty. I can do so much more, and be more active and actually enjoy the warm weather. So God has been healing me. He has been working. He is finishing what He started, but perhaps not in the way we expect.

And perhaps… when we expect healing from God as if He is a “healing machine” we may miss things. Should we, by our theology of miracles, leave out another possible miracle? The miracle of God enabling us to be content in all circumstances? The miracle of a faith that continues in hardship? The miracle of God in us, in our weakness?

Therefore, in order to keep me from becoming conceited, I was given a thorn in my flesh, a messenger of Satan, to torment me. ⁸ Three times I pleaded with the Lord to take it away from me. ⁹ But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me. ¹⁰ That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong. – 2 Corinthians 12:7-10

As the passage above shows, “when I am weak, then I am strong”. This truth is something I still need to learn, as my tendency is to say: “When I am weak, I’ll try to be stronger”. But when I am weak, and accept that, a miracle happens: the miracle of grace. Then I am stripped of my own power and must rely on Christ, and on others. Then I must go to the core of who I am: God’s daughter. I cannot define myself by what I do or acheive, because there is no energy to do or acheive. It is God who does it, and God who receives the glory.

Amen (Hebrew: So be it).