In pouring out my heart to you on the matter at hand, I want you to understand that I’m not a religious nut or TV sensationalist who plays upon the emotions of the gullible. What I’m going to share with you is absolute truth. All of it. Up until now, I've shared this segment of my life with a few friends only. Perhaps it’s time to go public. If what I’m about to tell you draws you closer to the One who cares about each of us, my efforts will not have been wasted.
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The Fireplace Experience
I must have been six or seven years of age and sleeping on the floor in front of the fireplace on a cold wintry night when I was crushed by my first grand mal seizure. This part of my life has always been the most sensitive. As noted above, I have shared this story with only a few friends. I think I can now muster enough courage to share it with you. Because of personal religious persuasions and perceptions, some of you will not believe part of this account. But be it as it may, I will be addressing these experiences from the heart out, not from the teeth out.
“Fits” vs. Epilepsy
Epilepsy! Mom and Dad had no idea what the term meant when the doctor informed them of what I had. Mountain folks in the Appalachian culture of Eastern Kentucky refer to them as “fits.” They always came at night, while I slept. For some unknown reason, I never had one during the daylight hours.
Warning Signal
Epileptics usually experience an “aura”—a warning signal—just prior to the approaching convulsion. Mine always occurred in my left hand. If I could grasp my left hand tightly, or awaken my brother in time to grasp it for me, the oncoming seizure subsided. Seldom were we able to grasp the hand before the “fit” arrived and I was thrown into a hell’s torment. Yes, it was just that—a hell’s torment.
During the course of each convulsion, I was conscious enough to know that the world I had been projected into was as weird as the “5th Dimension” of the late TV program “Twilight Zone,” or the movie, “Encounters Of The 3rd Kind.” But no TV program or movie will ever be able to capture the eerie magnitude of the epileptic’s world during a seizure. Words cannot describe it.
The frequency of the seizures varied, perhaps one per week to about six per month. The duration of each seizure was 3-4 minutes, which felt like a lifetime. Following each convulsion, I was helpless for an hour or longer. All of my energy was sapped during each episode.
The Unforgettable Encounter
One evening, at about eleven or twelve years of age, after having gone to bed, I felt a seizure approaching. I immediately began praying aloud and very fervently. I do not recall of ever praying as fervently as I did that night. I had accepted Jesus as my Lord and Savior a few months earlier. I begged the Lord to “take away the fits and I will serve you all of my life.” This was my covenant with the Lord. Now note what happened.
I began trembling uncontrollably, and without the usual symptoms of an impending “fit.” It was entirely different. I continued to pour out my heart to God, speaking words and uttering a vocabulary that only a Kentucky hillbilly youngster would use. I don’t recall how long I prayed, but finally the trembling ceased and I settled down for a restful sleep, confident that my God had heard the cry and felt the heartstrings of one of His little ones. You might be wondering what happened during that strange excursion. Let me put it like this:
The evil power that plagued me was making his exit!
Healed? You bet!
That was many years ago. Since that unforgettable night, I have not had the slightest symptom of a convulsion! Was I supernaturally and instantaneously healed by the Lord Himself? Yes, yes, a thousand times, yes! You see, we seem to want to restrict the Lord’s ability to heal supernaturally and instantaneously. He healed me! I'm a living witness.
Off The Deep End?
Now before you conclude I have gone off the deep end, let me explain that the only “faith healer” present during this heavenly encounter was the Lord Himself. I strongly question most of the so-called “healings” that allegedly take place in various circles of the Christian community today. I have no confidence in those fly-by-night “faith healers” whose only god is the greenback. But I do not question Jesus’ ability to heal—yes, even today. I’m living proof. If God decides to intervene, supernaturally and instantaneously, in someone’s life today, as He did mine, we should accept it and praise His Holy Name.
Conclusion
The night of that encounter, I promised the Lord I would always live for Him. I failed to keep my promise. A few years later, I broke my covenant. I have not served Him all of my days. He kept His covenant. I shattered mine, but reinstated it later! He has remained faithful! He always does. How unworthy we are.
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