In 1990, it was rather risqué for anyone to meet someone from an ad in the newspaper or online. Of course, at the time, most people stayed connected through television or newspapers. The Internet was not widely used and dating websites were practically non-existent.
So, when people asked us how we met, just to see what kind of reaction we would get, we told them, “Through an ad in the Dallas Morning News.” These days, nobody raises an eyebrow. But that doesn’t mean the beginning of our story wasn’t unusual.
I was looking for a job, a live-in position. I had interviewed for a few nanny positions before I found an ad saying a “quadriplegic businessman looking for a live-in caregiver.” I called and made an appointment for an interview.
At the time, I was a nominal Catholic at best, but I loved Jesus. I had already had a decent prayer life with a handful of “charismatic” experiences which had intensified my relationship with Jesus. I also attended the “Vineyard,” a charismatic non-denominational community whose love ballad style music drew me to it. After all, I did love Jesus and my experience of the Catholic church was anything but emotional. My experience of hearing the Lord speak was practically non-existent.
I parked in front of the house, went to the door, and knocked. The next 10 seconds marked my life in ways I could not have foreseen, nor would I have chosen if I knew then what I know now.
A man opened the door. The next thought through my head was a shock, even to me.
He’s been healed!
The man greeted me and invited me in directing me to his right. At that moment, I realized how stupid I had been. But in the next few seconds, I would top it.
There was Terry, in his wheelchair, but before the feeling of stupidity could overwhelm me, another thought dropped into my brain.
This is the man whom you will marry. And as if that wasn’t enough, my stomach filled with butterflies.
I quickly shewed the thought from my mind as if I were waving away a fly buzzing my head. I struggled to compose myself for my interview, which I can hardly remember.
A few days later, he called telling me that he had been looking for someone with best friend qualities and out of about 100 people who applied, he chose me.
We easily became friends and quickly became romantic. Within a couple of months, he proposed with a wedding date within just a few more.
A friend of ours advised us to wait a year but one year turned into six. 1990 turned into 1996.
That summer I attended a prayer meeting in the home of a home-schooling family with a deliverance ministry. I began to learn about spiritual warfare and had gone through some deliverance prayer myself before I started having unusual spiritual experiences of my own.
My first encounter
Over the previous six years, Terry and I were off and on romantically, but we were always friends. At this point, we were more on than off.
One day, I was in the shower when I started to regret my life with him, and I began to cry. The odd thing about this was that I couldn’t stop crying, even when I wanted to.
I got out of the shower, dried off, lay on the bed still bawling. I was out of control.
One lesson I had learned with this ministry was that anything out of control is demonic, so I started to pray.
“Lord, help me. What is this?” I prayed aloud.
Then, about level with my forehead, I “saw” the word “DISCONTENTMENT.”
I took that to mean I was being attacked by the spirit of discontentment. So, taking what I learned from our prayer meetings, I started to fight this spirit.
“In the name of Jesus, I renounce you, spirit of discontentment. I reject you. I don’t want you. I am a child of the King, and you must leave… .”
I didn’t know what I was doing really, but I threw everything I could think of, the Name of Jesus, the Blood of Jesus, sure that something would work.
In a moment, I went from bawling as if my mother had just died, to absolute stillness. Like flipping a switch.
My Second Encounter
Three weeks later, I “heard” a voice. It was thought that I knew was not my own.
Terry will be healed.
At this point, I had completely forgotten about what had happened at the interview. This thought was absolutely foreign. I knew Jesus healed in the Bible, but I never considered it could happen today and I certainly didn’t think one could ask for such a thing. And I wasn’t even asking. I was being told. My next thought was that the spirit of discontentment had come back to torment me again. So, I began to fight as I had three weeks before.
“In the name of Jesus, I stand against you, spirit of discontentment….” I continued, but this time, I asked that I only be able to hear God’s voice, not the enemy, not my own thoughts or feelings. Only God. The longer I prayed this, the louder it got.
After a minute or so, I conceded.
“Okay. Yes, I know that we’ll all be healed and have resurrected bodies.”
No, in this lifetime.
“In the name of Jesus, I stand against you, spirit of discontentment….”
Again, I prayed that I only hear God’s voice, neither the enemy’s voice nor my own thoughts or feelings. Again, the longer I prayed, the louder it got.
Once again, I conceded. “Lord, I believe. Help my unbelief.”
Then I heard one last thought.
It’s not a matter of if. It’s a matter of when.
And it was over.
Not very long after this, we broached the subject of marriage again. With this experience, what I call “The Promise,” I found the courage, that I wasn’t sure I had, to marry a quadriplegic.
I never could have imagined that when he was challenged, he did not respond very well. He was angry and as an employer, he was used to being in control of everything and everybody. Paying his employees gave him the right to tell others what to do and expect that things get done right now! It was a habit he too easily transferred to his wife.
Looking back on why we were attracted to each other. I was raised without a father. I was looking for a strong decisive man who could provide well for me. That was Terry.
On the other hand, Terry was looking for someone who wouldn’t challenge his authority. As a choleric personality type, he believed he was always right about everything all the time. He had had a lot of experience to back this up. There was no need for any other opinions than his. That was me, for a year or so. Once I started growing as a woman, with my own opinions and expecting some autonomy, things turned bad.
Our home environment was not a healthy one, and in the volatile atmosphere, I learned to lean on the Lord and listen to His voice. Over and over, the Lord would instruct me how to deal with Terry to keep him calm.
I prayed and fasted for him and saw improvements over time. These improvements encouraged me to continue to pray for him and his healing. Emotional as well as physical.
Year after year, however, I couldn’t understand why he wasn’t being healed. We were in several different Christian communities which believed in prayer and healing. More than that, they believed Terry would be healed. As a group, we had thousands of people all over the world praying for Terry’s physical healing. Still, nothing.
At one point, I happened on the following scripture which led me to give up. I gave up trying to convince him to treat me better, to honor me, to demand my rights. Nothing worked. I just decided to stop fighting.
“Suck it up, Buttercup,” I told myself. This is where the Lord has me. I need to make the best of it. I was married and there was no getting out of it, at least until death. I decided to serve my husband as if he were Jesus and maybe, just maybe….
In like manner also let wives be subject to their husbands: that if any believe not the word, they may be won without the word, by the conversation of the wives. ~1 Peter 3:1
I know there must be many who believe that the healing that I’m waiting for is more emotional rather than physical. No doubt this is part of it. I have seen and continue to see his heart heal, his personality change and his faithfulness to God increase even in the last nine months.
Still, I know that I know before he goes on to heaven, he will be physically healed on this earth. I may be dead by then, but Terry will still be alive and in his flesh when the Lord fulfills His Promise to me. It has been 33 years since the Lord first spoke about healing to me. Twenty-seven years since ‘The Promise.” At this point, I can’t not believe.
Thou hast deceived me, O Lord, and I am deceived: thou hast been stronger than I, and thou hast prevailed. I am become a laughing-stock all the day, all scoff at me. ~Jeremiah 20:7
