I haven’t been this miserable in years. On the outside, you wouldn’t have known—at The Bridge tonight I looked fine, maybe even “good.” i was functioning and acting like my normal self. But from 8 a.m. to 3 p.m., I was wrecked. Body, mind, spirit—everything. My body and mind were betraying me and the enemy was playing in my life like I was his personal jungle gym.
The migraine came out of nowhere, like a storm that doesn’t warn you before it hits. It started slowly on Monday, with nausea and sickness and a slight headache. Nothing to be concerned about. Tuesday it progressed more and sent me home from work but I refused to miss a meeting I had scheduled with my fellow Freedom Group leaders. Then today, It pinned me to the floor. The pain was blinding, suffocating. I’ve lived through these before—high school, college, days where I couldn’t lift my head, where I nearly passed out from it or did. Days were I was so desperate to be healed that Id just cry out in hopes it would go away. We tried everything then: medication, injections, chiropractors, massages, you name it. Nothing fixed it. I would look at my "headache calander" and have maybe a week of days over the entire month that the headaches wouldn't be too bad. It was miserable. That was one of them today.
The last time I had one like this was 2022. I remember collapsing on a friend’s couch during CORE. Anyone who has had these horrible migraines and headaches knows that it often lingers to the next day. And The next day it started to flare again in class—until Pastor Jimmy prayed over me that night. From then on, I didn’t have another one. I walked away convinced God had healed me. And I believed it. And I knew it in my deepest part of my heart. That night something broke. I walked away believing I was healed. And for years, I was. No attacks. No collapses. Just freedom.
So when today came, I wasn’t ready. I spiraled. Hard.
For hours I lay on the cold bathroom floor. Lights off, pure darkness like no other room could provide. Headache music humming in the background. Steam from tea and hot water filling the air, like maybe I could breathe the pain out. I couldn’t think straight, but my mind wouldn’t stop. It spun and spun and spun—
What if this isn’t just a migraine? What if something inside me is failing? What if I am actually sicker than I think? What if I miss more work? What if I can’t pay bills? What if this is forever again? What if its just like before? What if this is the thing that ruins everything? What if this is the infection I was just talking about being worried about? What if...?
The enemy knows exactly what to do in those moments. He slithered in and whispered lie after lie after lie until I was drowning in them. I could almost believe I was dying. He kept the lies in my mind, making me truly believe this was more than just a migraine.
By 3 p.m.—after two emergency meds, two migraine doses, three desperate naps, another trip to the Chiropractor, and endless hours in the dark—the pain finally cracked. Relief came, but it was thin, fragile. It is like the day after you have the stomach flu, just afraid to push it in fear it'll come back harder. Fear tried to take its place. Fear that maybe healing wasn’t real. Fear that God had changed His mind. Fear that maybe I was just lucky for a while. Fear that maybe I was going to suffer for a while again. Fear that this was only temporary.
But here’s what happened in the midst of my fear.
In that fragile moment, God stepped into the story again. Not with thunder. Not with lightning. But with a whisper so steady it cut through every lie:
“I healed you then. I am healing you now. I have never left you.”
And I realized—healing isn’t just the absence of pain. Healing is Him. His presence on the bathroom floor. His hand steadying me when my thoughts spiral. His voice cutting through the dark. I thought back to me on the floor, nearly in tears, and just silently praying for relief because speaking hurt too much. And my music changing to worship without me hitting the button, just God's divine hand hitting a new station. As if He was washing over me His truth in the midst of my lies.
The enemy will always try to write my story in fear. But God keeps writing it in love. The enemy with always find a way to pull us back, if we let him. I could have stayed on that floor, I could have skipped Young Adult worship tonight and stayed home, I could have played the victim. Allowing myself to spiral with every Google search and text about what I was encountering. I could have allowed the enemy to win that fight today. But God had a different story. Today reminded me that even when I am face-down, shaking, believing the worst—He is still here. He is still healer. He is still faithful. He doesn't walk away or change His mind just because I struggle one day. He doesn't look at me with pity but with love. He doesn't allow us to stay on the bathroom floor. And that simple truth changes everything.
