In the late winter of 2011, I’d shoot up from my sleep in the middle of the night gasping for air–my pillow soaked in sweat. It would happen sporadically, unexpected and without warning, and neither were these harsh awakenings triggered by nightmares or loud noises. These episodes reoccurred in series for over two months until I decided to see my doctor.
When I finally arrived at the doctor’s office, after reading over my symptoms, the first thing my doctor ordered was a Spirometry Test (an in-office test evaluating how well your lungs are working). She left the room and shortly thereafter, a nurse walked in with the test (much like the photo below, except it was a little more high tech.)
The nurse explained to me that I would have to blow three times into the device, each one divided by two intervals. I was instructed to inhale deeply and blow into the device as hard and as long as I possibly could. To make a semi-long story short: the doctor returned to the room, read the chart and told me that my breathing was horrible and that I had asthma. She called in two inhalers to the pharmacy for me, one being medicated.
I picked up my prescription within the hour, went home and called my mother. When I told her the diagnosis the doctor gave me, she didn’t believe it (literally). Soon after, I called my sister and told her the same thing I shared with our mother, and her reaction was the same, except it went a bit like, “ASTHMA?! You don’t have asthma! Those doctors don’t know what they’re talking about!”
Now, I saw the readings for myself when I was given the diagnosis. I saw how far the bar went when I blew into the Spirometry testing device, and the low numbers were definitely equivalent to an asthma detection.
For weeks, I continued to experience asthma attacks in my sleep, in response, I’d utilized the inhaler as instructed. But then, all of a sudden, something hit me! I remembered the promises and declarations of the Lord, “I will give you rest” (Matt. 11:28b), and “The Spirit of God has made me, and the breath of the Almighty gives me life!” (Job 33:4). And since His promises are “yes and amen”, I knew that I had to take Him at His word. I had to be steadfast on the Word of God, unshakably believing that, “Man shall not live by bread alone, but by every word that proceeds out of the mouth of God” (Matt. 4:4). Not immediately realizing it, my mother and sister were calling those things which be not as though they were (whether they themselves perceived it or not.) Never once did I refute them, even when I heard that asthma was incurable.
Realizing, if rest comes from God, which I was being hindered from, and if breath also comes from Him, which was being sucked from me, then it was obvious that the enemy (satan) wanted me dead! (It’s not called an asthma attack for nothing.)
Fast forward six years later, September 2017. I went to the doctor’s office for a lingering cough, the first thing the doctor ordered was…you’ve guessed it: a Spirometry Test. I blew into the device once, then was ordered to do it twice more. “Wow!” the nurse exclaimed, “For your age and weight, you blew far and above what you should have. Your lungs are great! “So, no asthma?” I asked.”No. Definitely not“, the nurse confirmed. When the doctor entered the room, he confirmed that I didn’t have asthma, and what I currently was suffering from was post-nasal drip.
When I went back home that day, I was compelled to clear out my medicine cabinet, as I had been meaning to for weeks. As I reached back, far into the midsection of the cabinet, I laid eyes upon a small grey device. It was my old inhaler! It was dated May 2011. As I rotated it, I noticed it had 111 pushes remaining.
When I think back, I stopped using it in the summer of 2011, not to prove a point or “take a chance”, but yet, unknowingly. Why? Because I didn’t need it anymore. I was healed from asthma! It’s crazy how it took me six years to realize the miracle that the Lord Jesus had blessed me with! We somethings fail to realize all of the wonderful and miraculous things God has done for us until it’s all said and done.
Now, was the doctor right? Medically and physically speaking, yes. But there was a promise made 2,000 years ago, that by the stripes of Christ, we were healed (1 Peter 2.24). And even though my doctor, who I respected very dearly, gave me a not-so-great medical report, I chose to believe the report of the Lord.
By the way, never once did I claim the disease. I never said the words, ‘I have asthma” or “…my asthma”. Why claim an intruder? I didn’t have the intruder, the intruder had me. But by the blood of Jesus Christ, it had to release me!