When I had Him, I had comfort

by Veronica

One Lent, I was blessed to be stricken with Malaria.  Yes, blessed to have Malaria. I had spent the previous spring in a Honduran orphanage. While I was there, one boy got malaria, all of the children took their medication.  I took mine too- but mine only worked half-way.  A little parasite hid itself away inside of me, and decided to come out a year and a half later.

It was seven years ago and I entered Lent with the common expectation of trying to be humble and growing closer to God. A week after Ash Wednesday, I got sick. It started with an extreme chill. I shivered, I shook, I rattled, I was freezing cold. I took a hot bath, and warmed up in blankets. I had a very high fever. My body ached. I fell asleep and slept in a hot pain for almost a day. And then - just as suddenly as I was sick - I was better. I felt better enough to go back to work with a few ibuprofen, so I did.


I sat at my computer desk, and began again to feel that nauseating chill creeping back. At my desk, I started to shiver. I walked into my bosses office with hollow eyes and chattering teeth and asked to go home. She insisted. The chill-fever-pain-sleep-cycle continued for a few more days. I felt horrible. After each fever, my body felt like I had been crushed in the jaws of a garbage truck, and then taken out and driven over and over again by the truck. I prayed for relief.

The doctors at the student health clinic didn't know what to make of me. They took my blood and said it could be Leukemia, another asked me if I had risk factors for AIDS. I sat shivering on a cot in the clinic, crying, wondering if my life was over. I called my mother, 2000 miles away and told her I might be dying.

I prayed for a diagnosis, I prayed for relief. I prayed for a cure. During my fevers, I prayed for death. I prayed for it to be happy and fast, and for God to take me to Him.  I prayed that I wouldn't have to go through too many more of the fevers and that each one would be my last. When I had nothing but hot and pain to look forward to - I had Him, and when I had Him, I had comfort.

I couldn't take care of myself, each fever left me weaker than the last. I was too tired to eat, even swallowing broth was incredible work. I crawled to the restroom because that was all I could muster, and lay on the cold tile floor for hours afterward. My soon-to-be husband took me into his home, and did everything he could to care for me.  He warmed me up when the shaking chill began, and cooled me off when the searing hot took over.  He was steadfast in his care and compassion. 

After a week and a half, I was finally diagnosed with Malaria, given medication.  Within 72 hours the fevers stopped. With a week I didn't feel horrible, and within two weeks I was able to return to work, only slightly exhausted.

I prayed a lot when I was sick. I prayed for the poor boy who was sick in the orphanage and how I wish I had done more for him. I wish I had made him eat a little bit each day - even when he didn't want to, just like Tom had done for me. I wish I had brought him juice or some pain relief medicine. I wish I had brought him blankets for the cold, and cool cloths for the fever. I prayed for the 250 MILLION cases of malaria each year, and the approximately 1 MILLION people who die of malaria each year, who are mostly children under the age of 5. I prayed for people who didn't have sick leave, who couldn't get out of bed because of the crushing fevers, who couldn't afford medicine, or food, or to pay for their room, who while being sick would lose the income of those days, and who would never be able to pay back debts incurred while they were ill.

I truly appreciate the time I was sick because it opened my heart to the plight those who suffer around the world, not just from poverty, but also illnesses which they can't prevent and can't cure because medicines are too expensive. I couldn't believe how quickly I was cured after taking the medication. I also couldn't imagine how people in the developing world could afford it – especially since it was a stretch on my graduate school budget.

I will never forget that Lent and how God humbled me in an incredible way. I was physically poor and couldn't care for myself. I was without medical insurance to cover my medical bills. I was financially poor and had to ask other people for money just so I could survive. But during this time, God was there.  He drew me towards His beloved poor who suffer all around the world from Malaria and other preventable diseases, and most importantly He was drawing me to a deeper reliance and full surrender to Him.