Christ_empowered
Member
- Oct 23, 2010
- 14,315
- 10,798
God's Timing, it has been said, is "always perfect. He's never late, never early, but always on time." So true.
I was praying the other day about all the grace I've been shown and straight up miracles I've received. I'm 29, nearly 30. 9 years ago about this time, I'd just come out of a mental hospital. I'd been electroshocked (involuntarily) and drugged to the gills. My eyes went dead and the pills provided a false sort of glaze. My hair was thin, brittle, and falling out. I was short. I was sickly. I looked 26, on a good day. I had an IQ of maybe 95 (again, on good day).
9 years later, I'm going to school online w/ Liberty University to pursue a worthwhile degree. I apparently have a "high IQ," not that I care all that much. There's a real light in my eyes. I'm taller. I look considerably younger than my age.
I always thought God (or...someone...) would heal me, so I was praying, wondering: why now? Why not sooner, or later, or...? Then it dawned on me: God couldn't heal me sooner. I was a sodomite. If I'd been made attractive and healthy before age 25-26, the gay dudes would have swooped in to ruin God's good work in my life. If I'd been healed before my parents had to get me a good attorney, there's not telling what the shrinks from back in the day (they HATE me) would have done. If I'd been healed before my parents moved up in the world a good bit, I would have been subject to psychiatric/mental health control.
As it is, no one around here respects me. Being low status means you're supposed to "know your place." I don't know if this is particularly true in the South, or if people are just more open about it. Most other places, I'd be in a state mental hospital or group home, subject to all sorts of torment.
So, I went through it for a good 10 years (a lot of this stuff started at 19 years old for me). That chapter of my life--the dark parts, the struggles, the pain, the ridicule--is over. No, people--men in particular--don't "respect" me, but do I care? People around here have been tormenting me for a decade. I'm considered "uppity" ("who does he think he is?!?!," that kinda thing), I'm considered a "loser," I'm considered "schizophrenic," so on and so forth.
God came through for me! As I was praying recently, it finally dawned on me: its not a wonder that I went through it, its a wonder that I've been healed, saved, and set free. We live in a fallen world, and people "go through things," especially despised poor people.

I was praying the other day about all the grace I've been shown and straight up miracles I've received. I'm 29, nearly 30. 9 years ago about this time, I'd just come out of a mental hospital. I'd been electroshocked (involuntarily) and drugged to the gills. My eyes went dead and the pills provided a false sort of glaze. My hair was thin, brittle, and falling out. I was short. I was sickly. I looked 26, on a good day. I had an IQ of maybe 95 (again, on good day).
9 years later, I'm going to school online w/ Liberty University to pursue a worthwhile degree. I apparently have a "high IQ," not that I care all that much. There's a real light in my eyes. I'm taller. I look considerably younger than my age.
I always thought God (or...someone...) would heal me, so I was praying, wondering: why now? Why not sooner, or later, or...? Then it dawned on me: God couldn't heal me sooner. I was a sodomite. If I'd been made attractive and healthy before age 25-26, the gay dudes would have swooped in to ruin God's good work in my life. If I'd been healed before my parents had to get me a good attorney, there's not telling what the shrinks from back in the day (they HATE me) would have done. If I'd been healed before my parents moved up in the world a good bit, I would have been subject to psychiatric/mental health control.
As it is, no one around here respects me. Being low status means you're supposed to "know your place." I don't know if this is particularly true in the South, or if people are just more open about it. Most other places, I'd be in a state mental hospital or group home, subject to all sorts of torment.
So, I went through it for a good 10 years (a lot of this stuff started at 19 years old for me). That chapter of my life--the dark parts, the struggles, the pain, the ridicule--is over. No, people--men in particular--don't "respect" me, but do I care? People around here have been tormenting me for a decade. I'm considered "uppity" ("who does he think he is?!?!," that kinda thing), I'm considered a "loser," I'm considered "schizophrenic," so on and so forth.
God came through for me! As I was praying recently, it finally dawned on me: its not a wonder that I went through it, its a wonder that I've been healed, saved, and set free. We live in a fallen world, and people "go through things," especially despised poor people.
