The Hidden Toxin ✔(#6 in the Our Side of The Dice Series)

||Author's Notes 7: Instability of The Heart||

Sometimes, I don't understand my life. I sometimes feel like I'm sailing in one direction, or I know exactly what I feel. But there are situations, occurrences, or happenings that show otherwise — as a brutal shock of reality. There are also times when my feelings and my state of mind are broken by something for the sake of it to be rebuilt. This has happened so many times, and it's still happening.

And this usually happens in affiliation to my relationship with God. So far, I've not been stable enough spiritually. I'm constantly shaken.

Now that I've put that out, let me take you on a quick trip down memory lane. In the last installment of my author's notes, I spoke about my desire to be an inspiration to many on social media and I talked about my wish to go back to India for another surgery and how I went back to a state of numbness because I realized that the possibilities of going back were not likely.

If you recall, in the older installment of the author's notes, I expatiated on the insecurities I was feeling. Then these feelings progressed to numbness and then nonchalance. This was before the presence of Instagram raised my hopes again and spiked up some emotions within me. In this installment, I will be narrating another experience that caused an uprising and turmoil of my emotions.

After I came to terms with the fact that I couldn't travel back to India, life went on. A few years later, I started to get closer to God — or instead, I was attempting to get closer to God. Because my spiritual life has always been a rollercoaster filled with a cycle of dormancy, spontaneous and sudden faith in God only to have my faith get polluted by different things — especially my poisonous chain of thoughts.

In my earlier years of university, I was pretty average. Perhaps, still slightly insecure, but it was nothing much. I wasn't going through a difficult phase. I had a community of great people, and I attended a fellowship very often. Being a part of this fellowship was one of my major attempts in getting closer to God, and frankly, it helped my spiritual life.

The coordinator of the fellowship was kind. The people in the fellowship were also very hospitable, so it easily felt like family. The sermons preached in the fellowship resonated deeply, and the prayers instilled in me a sense of confidence and energy and hope for a better life in all ramifications.

It was during one of the prayers sessions where the spirit of God was very present in the room that everyone in the fellowship decided to make me the center of their prayers for that night. A couple of minutes before the prayer session, we were asked to share life-changing experiences that helped us remain thankful to God.

So I shared a brief story of my legs, of how I'm thankful to God for the success of the surgeries I've had in the past. Then I went on to say some honest things. I shared my pain and spoke of how I still wasn't too happy with the current situation of things. I expressed my displeasure in my manner of walking. Then I wrapped up my speech, saying that I wished for permanent healing.

Everyone was touched by everything I'd said because they could see the state of my heart as I spoke. It was evident to them that I was still hurting because it was hard to find the words as I tried to express myself. I was stammering. I was fighting back the tears. There was a tight lumpy ball of emotions clogged in my throat, seeking a means of outer expression.

So they prayed for me that night till the time for the fellowship gathering was up. During the prayer session, one of the fellowship members,  a senior, touched my knees gently as she prayed in tongues. Then, later on, she prophesied and told me that my legs would get healed.

And those very words marked the beginning of my turmoil.

That was the first time I was told that my legs would get healed. At least, that was the first time it felt real to me. It felt like it was really going to happen. I was floating in a high cloud of euphoria. It felt lovely to know that God cared about me. The notion of being the Lord's child became a bit solid to me because I realized that God had me in mind.