Ricochet is the best place on the internet to discuss the issues of the day, either through commenting on posts or writing your own for our active and dynamic community in a fully moderated environment. In addition, the Ricochet Audio Network offers over 50 original podcasts with new episodes released every day.
Notes from a Faith Healing Meeting
I went to a healing meeting with my wife and it was as atrocious as I expected. Nevertheless, I was happy to be there because it beat sitting home alone on a Friday night with a wide-open internet.
I don’t have a particular dog in the fight around the theology of healing. I’ve heard the stories of the near-death woman over whom the church gathered for intercession and there she is now singing in the choir. And I’ve heard stories that went the other way. I can’t argue with someone’s experience.
Further, I would never fault a person for grasping at any kind of hope in times of distress and uncertainty. Recently a young boy had a dreadful accident and was near death. I received frantic emails and texts that it was now time for the church to rally and pray in order to see a miracle. A special service at a local faith-healing church was quickly organized.
I didn’t sleep much last night, which isn’t very different from every other night, but last night I had something new on my mind. Images of my mother’s ravaged body after decades of experimental drugs administered by heinous injections intended to treat her RA, which they did, but they also slowly killed her off in so many other ways.
Today was my Sabbath, and it started out as it usually does. But as the day wore on, I found myself feeling the fog and heaviness of the virus: fines being charged in Osceola County for not wearing masks, for one.
There are those who think fashion is frivolous or silly, but I know better. Only a couple of people on Ricochet know this, but I was sick last year. On May 20, 2016, my friend and neighbor threw me into the car and rushed me to the ER when I had a severe attack of abdominal pain. She knew I’d been having these for months because I’d missed parties and dinners, and this time she said, “Okay that’s it! We’re going to the ER.” I made her wait while I took a bath, washed my hair, shaved my legs, dried my hair, and put on makeup and an outfit. My reasoning was that if I showed up looking the way I was, they wouldn’t even try to save me.