The Delicacy of Healing

Dear Readers,
My mom is a huge proponent of miraculous healing. At least once a week while I'm having symptoms (which I have been for the past month) she sends me some kind of link or offer to go and "get healed". Usually these things are at revivals involving hundreds of charismatics who get taken by the spirit and do who knows what. I'm not quite a skeptic, but I'm definitely bordering the boundary. This isn't helped by my mom's insistence on the subject; sometimes I just want to be left alone with my disease. I feel like a healing should come from someone I know and trust, not as one of the hundreds who have come blindly with a hope of getting a fresh set of eyes, or a healed back.

I know that I don't put lots of stake in dreams, but sometimes they actually speak to me. In this dream I was back at Westmont for the summer; I wasn't in school, but they were having some kind of event that I was invited to on Kerwood lawn. My dad showed up in his workout clothes to embarrass me (this isn't TOO far off either). But, I think the most important part of the dream was me: in the middle of it, I looked down and noticed that there was a small hole in the middle of my chest with a delicate sprout growing out of it. It was kinda pretty, but I had this urge to pull it out at the same time. I asked my dad about it, and he said it was a disease I had to get rid of, but I had to be careful about how I took it out because I needed to remove the whole thing.

I often feel like my MS is a lot like this little plant. It gets worse and worse inside of me, yet I need to remove it delicately; I can't have someone else rip it from me. The fear of getting more symptoms will always be with me, but I can't just let someone I don't know lay hands on me and take this disease from me. It's my cross to bear until the Lord gives me someone to remove it from me.