Our Story, Part Thirty-Six (Misunderstood)

"For God has not given us the spirit of fear; 
but of power, and of love, 
and of a sound mind"

(II Timothy 1:7)

In the weeks following Kaylee's healing, it was as though a fire had been lit inside of me.  I wanted to tell everyone what God had done for us! I wanted people to know the amazing love we had experienced on my birthday, and more than anything else, I wanted to offer hope to the sick and oppressed.

I kept thinking back to how I had felt in the beginning, following Kaylee's initial diagnosis. There had been such a flood of emotions in that hospital room, along with that lingering question as to whether I should pray for her healing or accept this disease as part of God's plan (something He would use for good). I am so grateful today that God led me to make the right decision to fight for Kaylee's health.     

Yet somehow, although we had won this battle, I knew this wasn't the end of the story. God had given me too much information to keep it all to myself.  I couldn't stop thinking about all the mothers out there who were receiving the same devastating news for their children that I had once received for Kaylee. There were still so many whose lives were being shut down, just as Kaylee's had been, because of chronic, debilitating disease.  

After my 9-year struggle over Kaylee's life, I fully understood the enemy's tactic against the sick.  If he can convince us to accept disease as God's plan for our lives, we will not fight it effectively through prayer.  Every emotion I had experienced in that 9 -year period was still so vivid and real to me, and I truly felt a calling on my life to share our testimony and to encourage people to fight for their health and the health of their children.  

There are far too many people allowing disease to shut them down when Jesus paid an enormous price to set them free. Although I do not understand why we have to fight so hard, and although I certainly do not have all the answers, my message is that we have to fight til the very end and stop believing the lies of the enemy!  Disease is NOT God's perfect will and plan for our lives. Disease is darkness. 

"But you are a chosen people, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, God's special possession, that you may declare the praises of him who called you out of the darkness and into his wonderful light." (I Peter 2:9)  

God had sent so many people to that hospital room, and raised up so many people to pray for Kaylee throughout the years, beginning with the precious man who had anointed and prayed for her healing (long before I believed for it).  I knew that each and every prayer God had sent our way had played a part in bringing about her healing. The gratitude that I had toward God left me with a burning desire to help point others to the truth. 

Yet it wasn't long after our healing that I began to feel the resistance the pastor had warned us about. Although I wasn't yet aware of the secret talk against me that had begun in the church, I remember waking up around 3 am or so one morning in what felt like "a cloud of condemnation." It felt as if I had committed some terrible, unforgivable sin, and was overridden with guilt.  Very similar to the attack that had come against me the night before God had given me our sermon on healing, every weakness, imperfection, shortcoming and sin of my past was being brought to my mind.

Along with the condemnation came the fear: an overwhelming, all-consuming fear of life. Although God was continuing to miraculously provide for my family, everything from day to day was still uncertain and unstable. I had no credit or savings of any kind.  There was nothing to fall back on in an emergency.  I had been driving the same van for more than 10 years, and I had no idea what I would do if it were to stop running. The truth was, the reality of my future appeared bleak. I was basically alone raising six children, and although my husband was being faithful to send money, there was no assurance that this would continue.  All of these things would come to my mind as well, along with the familiar, fearful emotions I had experienced through each one of our job losses. I tried to fight off these feelings with prayer, but nothing seemed to work.  By morning, as the sun would come up, I was able to think more clearly. Yet as this continued to come on me, night after night, it began to takes its toll on me physically. 

Not only that, my children began to struggle as well.  Strange things were happening in the night with them, such as horrifying nightmares. Kaylee
also began to struggle with bouts of intense physical pain that would come on her suddenly in the night.  

One night she came to tell me that there was a sharp pain shooting through one of her arms.  I went and got in the bed with her and began to pray aloud.  I began to bind the enemy and remind him that he had no rights to her body any longer. As I prayed, the pain began to ease and eventually went away altogether.  Even so, this would mean another night without sleep for me.

I began to dread the night.  I tried staying up as late as I could, hoping that this would enable me to sleep straight through the night until daylight. But nothing I tried was working.  Inevitably, I would awake to the darkness and that dreaded, all-consuming condemnation and fear.  Hour after hour, I would lie there, trying desperately to fight these feelings and to get back to sleep.  I knew that if I didn't get my sleep, I would not be able to function the next day; so along with the condemnation and fear came intense anxiety over not being able to sleep. It was a terrible combination of emotions, and before long, I couldn't fall asleep at all.  I felt anxious from the moment I laid down to try and sleep. I found myself, for the first time in my life, with a full blown case of insomnia.   


I didn't know where to turn for help because I didn't think that many people would understand.  I couldn't fully understand it myself. I did not want to appear to anyone to be unstable or unable to control my own emotions. I truly believed that I was dealing with something spiritual, but I figured that most people would think that I needed to be on medication.  Also, I was embarrassed and ashamed that I couldn't overcome it on my own.  I felt weak. For this reason, I told very few people about what I was experiencing. 


This went on for several months and began to consume my life.  It wasn't until my mother drug me into her pastor's office (much to my dismay) that I was finally "cured." Thankfully, this kind Baptist minister (Tom Grantham) took my situation seriously.  After my mother explained to him what I was going through in the night, he looked at me with great compassion and deep concern and said, "You have nothing to be afraid of."  In that moment, I honestly felt like arguing with him and saying: You don't understand! But even as this thought crossed my mind, I realized that something was very wrong. I knew that what I was thinking was not the truth. Why was I suddenly believing the lies of the enemy?  

This pastor anointed me with oil and prayed that the fear would leave me.  He prayed that peace and comfort would come over me and my family that day. From that point on, the all-consuming fear left me, and eventually, the insomnia.  I have never struggled with this again in the night. I am truly thankful for this humble pastor that God sent to my rescue (and for my mother's boldness that day).  

Looking back to this time, I think one of the mistakes I made was to stop fasting once Kaylee had received her healing. I don't think that I fully understood the spiritual strength I was gaining through my fasting.  Because I had never dealt with the many emotions and fear associated with the numerous job losses and things that had occurred in my marriage, I had been left with a vulnerable area for the enemy to target. Although I still struggle at times with completely trusting God in the area of provision, He has been faithful to continue to bring healing to me.  

Before this kind pastor came to my rescue, I had attempted to receive help from the church where Kaylee's healing had taken place.  Because the main pastor had warned me (through the sermon following Kaylee's healing) that Satan was going to bring up the issues of my past (my rear-view mirror) and that "every demon in hell" was about to rise up, it seemed to make sense that this church would be able to help me.  

Although the local pastor (whom I will refer to from this point forward as Pastor Stan) and I had spoken briefly and things seemed better between us, we had not spoken about Kayee's healing specifically since that day. Because of this, I didn't feel comfortable talking to him about what I was now going through.  I believed that what I was experiencing was a direct result (backlash) due to the miracle we had just received for Kaylee. Naturally, I did not feel that I could convey any of this to Pastor Stan.      

Because the main pastor was impossible to reach, I felt that I might be able to benefit from a confidential, counseling session with someone connected to the church. I knew that I would be sharing deep wounds and personal struggles of my past, so I was hoping I could be referred to someone experienced in this area.  

I decided to call the church office in Birmingham to see if there was someone I could talk with. As I was explaining a little about my situation to the church secretary, it came up that I lived in Auburn.   Because of this, the secretary immediately referred me back to Pastor Stan. Naturally, I did not want to discuss my personal feelings toward him or what specifically had gone on between us with this secretary, so I had to quickly come up with a reason as to why I hadn't gone to him first. I said the first thing that came to my mind:

"He is just so busy with the college students and all the things going on at the church right now," I said. "I just didn't want to take his time with something like this. I was hoping that there might be someone there who handled more of the counseling."  

I was actually quite pleased with my answer, and felt I had handled it in the most discrete way possible.  The secretary seemed satisfied and told me that she would try to find someone who could help me. Within a few minutes of us hanging up the phone, however, I received a phone call from Pastor Stan. 

"I hear that you have some things you're needing to talk with someone about," he said.  

Needless to say, I was a little taken aback to hear his voice. But what really caught me off guard was what came next:  "I just hate that you told the secretary that I did not have time for you."  

"No, that's not what I said," I tried to explain. "I just know that you have a lot going on at the church, and I didn't want to bother you with all of this if I didn't have to." 

He continued on talking as if it hadn't been brought up at all, so I tried to not to worry about it any further. Although I had definitely sensed his frustration with me in the beginning of the conversation, I felt better about things by the time we hung up the phone. He seemed genuinely concerned for us and agreed to call another pastor who could better help counsel me.  

A couple of days later, I was able to speak with a pastor.  From the very beginning of this phone conversation, I sensed that something wasn't right. As I began talking, there was very little response on the other end of the line which begin to make me uncomfortable.  What little response I was getting was not warm or welcoming. I wish I had just stopped at that point and gone with what I was feeling, but I was so desperate for help. 

In order to help this pastor understand why I felt this spiritual attack had come on me, I had to first mention the miracle we had just received and the spiritual battle we had fought (through our fasting and prayers). I also mentioned the prayer service for Kaylee that had taken place at the church. Yet, as I began to talk about these things, there was almost complete silence on the other end. I began to get even more nervous and uncomfortable. I could feel my voice starting to tremble, as that familiar feeling of inferiority and unworthiness began to come over me.  Because I knew that he had already spoken with Pastor Stan prior to talking to me, not knowing what else to do, I finally addressed the obvious:

"I am not sure how Pastor Stan felt about the prayer service we had for my daughter." 

With this, Pastor Mike (name changed) quickly cut me off. "Laura," he said sternly, almost as though this was what he had been waiting for all along, "We have a policy at this church that if you have a problem with one of the pastors, you need to take it to that pastor." 

"Oh no, that's not why I called!" I tried to explain. "I just felt that I needed to address it... in case... I mean, I didn't know if something had already been said..." I tried to continue.  "I wasn't sure how he felt about it.  I was afraid he might still be upset with me... and I..."

"Laura ....Laura .... Laura," he continued to speak over me as I tried to explain further, "Do not say another word about this to me!" 

I felt like a child being scolded.  It didn't matter what I tried to say in my defense, he wasn't hearing or believing a word I said.  It seemed that the motive for my phone call had already been predetermined by these pastors. Before we hung up the phone, the pastor offered to say a prayer for me.  ...I didn't hear a word of that prayer.  

I was completely devastated after we hung up the phone.  Not only was I going to have to face another night without sleep, I could see clearly the deception that Satan was creating. My attempt to cover up my problems with Pastor Stan was now being perceived as me trying to stir up trouble behind his back.  If my motive had been to make him look bad, I would have just come out and told them what he had said to me the day of Kaylee's healing.  I would have told them that he had completely contradicted what the main pastor had preached the day before. Surely the pastors were suppose to be "on the same page" concerning the message being preached. But the truth was, that had not been the reason for my phone call at all. All of this had put me in a very awkward position. Yet even so, I had been trusting God to take care of it. Things were being completely misconstrued.  

At this point, I realized there was nothing left to do but to confront Pastor Stan directly.  After all, I had not been completely honest with him either about why I didn't want to talk with him. It seemed that the only way to clear up the confusion and deception, being created by the enemy, was to confront it with the complete truth about how I felt. 

I did two things after I got off the phone that day. The first thing I did (with Erica's help) was write down the details of our testimony to send to the pastors of the church. The main pastor of this church had been used in such an incredible way in our lives, and I still desperately wanted him to know how God had used him and this church to bring about our healing. We sat down and wrote out a timeline of everything that had occurred (I made no mention of my problems with Pastor Stan). 

The second thing I did was send Pastor Stan an email requesting a meeting so that we could resolve the situation once and for all.  If Satan was fighting so hard against me, which clearly appeared to be the case, I decided that he must have something great to fear concerning this healing. The main pastor had told us: Do not let it distract you...