After i posted about the clot and all that happened I was taking a bath and I remembered something. There were a lot of prayers over those months, that to us seemed to last forever.  There were friends and family who did that thing that people sometimes do. Some people judge and it should be said that there were many more friends and family who did not stoop so low.

It must be noted down here that at one time in life i was a firm believer in healing- like you ask and believe and eventually you get healed. No I said that wrong. I really believed that God healed. I had seen some healed and others and those so deserving to be healed not, but when it came to us, I tried very hard to believe for healing. 

sometimes I fear that we just did not believe well enough and I owe that to my mostly churchy upbringing, oh the American church. I want to believe  (that it is so simple) but I cant. Some people are healed and some are not and it is not fair and that is something that I cannot explain. Someday I hope to come to terms with something resembling an understanding of this.

There were people who lacked..tact. There were stupid comments in question form, condisending and pointed like, ”if you get healed?” Funny, it does not sound so bad now…but in the middle of it all…it was very hurtful.  But they did not offer encouragement after the comment it was a comment meant to point out your lack of faith, I say. Once the friend said to hubby, “At some point you have to stop listening to the doctors and believe what the Bible says.”

I suppose to some religious folk that would sound a very noble thing to say but it felt very much like sand  in the eyes or something like fingers pointing down at us whilst we lay on the ground holding our stomachs that they’ve only just kicked. That is what it felt like. Of course we were believing for healing, how the hell did they think that we were making it through the bloody days and weeks and months? You see, we were more than alittle vulnerable…we were already on the ground.

I think that we should have appreciated it more had they laid down beside us and hugged us and said reassuring things like, “It will be ok” or “you’re not alone.” Gosh, that would have been awesome. But oh well.

There was a letter telling me that I should repent so that I could be healed. When confronted the writer of before mentioned letter said that she never meant it that way but I still have that letter. I think I must of, in my zeal and ignorance written such letters in my time, so she was easier to understand and thus to forgive, but the words stung.

Eventually we made up our minds that they meant well.

I say that i want to believe- I do believe in healing (i think) but i just don’t see that it is so simple as I once thought that it was. I know God exists and loves us and has healed many and so I won’t stop asking and trying my hardest to believe. That is as far as I can go just now. Why do I feel the need to apologise?

I should also say that all this I have said for myself, can’t speak for hubby and am sure that he has some good and better balanced thoughts on all of this. He is honestly my better half.

Peace and Grease as RP always says.