The Gushing of the Gashing

Just the other week, I had been around people with bad colds. I applied my faith to knowing that illness is just a lie from the devil, and didn’t worry about catching anything. See “Why Do We Get Sick?” I felt a few little fake symptoms. I sneezed, started getting a sore throat, etc. The symptoms were very slight and I could tell it was just the enemy trying to get me to believe I was catching the cold. I almost believed it and almost forgot to fight against it, but then sanity kicked in and I started speaking against it. I said out loud, “I’m not getting sick. I know this is a lie from the kingdom of darkness. I bind every spirit of infirmity. I know I’m healed by the blood of Jesus.”

Did I feel better? No, I started feeling worse. This happens a lot. When sickness tries to sneak its way in and I really put my faith to work not to believe it, I get attacked with a barrage of symptoms. It’s like the devil sees he’s losing the battle and just starts hurling everything at me to see if something sticks. My stomach started hurting. I felt slight nausea, slight feeling of diarrhea, migraine headache, body aches, fatigue, etc. None of these symptoms has anything to do with the cold. That’s how you know it was just a lie. I almost couldn’t get my things together to go home from work. That evening at home I didn’t feel any better. I took a nap.

When I woke up, I realized that this is the same attack that happens almost every time. This is still just the enemy. I AM HEALED. Despite how horrible I felt, I knew I was healed and was not going to accept any lie from the devil. I went to the bathroom and was just fed up with it. I started speaking to the devil and was telling him that I was not going to believe his lies, to stop trying to attack me, I do not believe him, etc. Then I realized I was addressing my comments directly to Satan. I don’t do that. I don’t talk to any evil spirits, because I do not want them talking back to me. I speak against them, but I do not act like I’m carrying on a conversation, even if I am denouncing actions. In the middle of me telling him I was not sick, I stopped addressing him. Instead of saying, “I am not sick,” I pointed upward to my heavenly father and asked, “Am I sick?”

Like a parent rushing to defend a child, I felt the magnificence of God standing over me. With a mighty response he replied to Satan for me, “No! She is healed by the …” What he said next, is not translatable into English. What I saw when he spoke the next word was the skin and muscles on Jesus’ back being gashed open as he took the stripes for me. Blood spirted out as his back was ripped open. The word described the act of the blood gushing out as he was gashed when he was beaten just before he died. The best translation I have is “the gushing of the gashing.” We don’t have a word that encompasses all that he said. I asked him what the word was, and he responded as if I would not be able to repeat it.

The next morning I felt better that I do on any normal morning. No sickness, no symptoms of anything, just healed. Thank you father for coming to my rescue!

We do not understand all that Jesus did for us. We cannot even say the words that describe it. Who are we to have received such a gift, such a privilege, such an honor, such a sacrifice as Jesus? Jesus, I am determined not to let your sacrifice go in vain on my account.