A Healing Journey
with Norma
“He said to her, “Daughter, your faith has healed you. Go in peace and be freed from your suffering.”
At age twenty-one, a single moment changed the course of my life. While enjoying a weekend at the lake, I fell off a jet ski and began experiencing persistent upper back and chest pain. What started as an injury would linger for the next twenty-four years, shaping nearly every aspect of my daily existence.
In the months that followed, I pursued physical therapy, but the pain would subside only to return with a vengeance. After a year of unrelenting agony and consultations with multiple doctors,
I received a diagnosis of fibromyalgia, described to me as a form of arthritis affecting the muscles.
Deep down, I questioned this label. Fibromyalgia typically involves widespread pain throughout the body, yet mine remained concentrated in my upper back and chest. The pain ebbed and flowed, often intensifying during stressful seasons of life. After the birth of my second daughter, it became a constant companion. Mornings brought extreme stiffness and debilitating discomfort; the pain would ease slightly as the day wore on, only to surge back with ferocious intensity in the evenings. At its worst, it felt as though someone had struck me repeatedly with a baseball bat across my back and chest—or as if a brick wall had collapsed on top of me.
My husband stood by me with unwavering support during those dark years. He took on extra responsibilities, offering massages, drawing hot baths, bringing medication when I couldn’t leave the bed, cooking dinner, and providing quiet comfort when life felt overwhelming. He cared for our two energetic daughters and handled household tasks when I was unable. Yet I carried deep guilt—guilt that my pain robbed him of a normal life at times, and guilt that our girls didn’t have a fully healthy mom who could join in the activities other mothers enjoyed. Their boundless energy only amplified the challenge of raising young children while managing chronic illness. Emotionally, I was in a valley of depression and exhaustion. I pleaded with God for healing, yet heaven seemed silent. Why was I enduring such suffering? What had I done to deserve this?
The pain grew so excruciating that I sometimes found myself bedridden and in tears. In my lowest moments—including one harrowing drive across a bridge where thoughts of ending it all crossed my mind—my role as a mother became my anchor, pulling me back from the edge. Over those twenty-four years, we invested thousands in specialists, naturopaths, acupuncture, prescription medications, and holistic treatments. Two additional doctors confirmed the fibromyalgia diagnosis and prescribed pain management medications. Countless sources emphasized dietary changes to reduce inflammation, but preparing those meals often left me utterly drained. The medications themselves brought new challenges, including digestive issues that compounded my sense of being trapped—shackled by both pain and its remedies.
Through it all, my relationship with God and His Word sustained me.
One morning during quiet time, the Holy Spirit prompted me to pray healing Scriptures over my life daily. I wrote verses on notecards and declared them each day. I also sensed God leading me to wean off of the prescription medication—a controlled substance that required a full year of careful tapering. Withdrawal brought intense anxiety and a worsening of symptoms, including severe burning sensations across my chest and back that made even clothing unbearable. As I immersed myself in the Gospels, I noticed a recurring theme in Jesus’ healings: “Your sins are forgiven,” or “Go and sin no more.” I began asking the Lord to reveal any hidden sin or un-forgiveness in my heart. He gently showed me the bitterness and resentment I had carried since childhood—hurts from others that I had never fully released. One morning, during an especially tender time of prayer, I knelt before the Lord in surrender. I confessed every known and unknown sin, asking forgiveness for any sinful attitudes buried deep within. In that sacred moment, I felt a profound light from heaven envelop me, and I heard the words in my spirit:
“Daughter, your faith has made you well.”
God also revealed that He had delayed my healing so my daughters—now fourteen and sixteen—could witness His miraculous power firsthand. They had grown up knowing only a sick mother; now they would see Jehovah Rapha, the God who heals every infirmity.
Healing didn’t arrive instantly. The enemy resisted fiercely, and that year brought one of the most difficult seasons of my life: a personal crisis involving someone close to me, the loss of my father, and a new diagnosis of gastritis that caused significant weight loss and made eating nearly impossible. Yet I refused to waver. Inspired by a sermon from Pastor Charles Stanley—that all battles are won on our knees—I committed to praying on my knees each morning. I asked God to remove every spirit of infirmity, break every chain of emotional bondage, and cancel any assignment from the enemy seeking to hinder my healing. After months of persistent prayer, God fulfilled His promise.
The fibromyalgia symptoms vanished completely. I regained my weight and, at forty-five, feel healthier and more vibrant than I did in my twenties or thirties.
To every believer reading this: Never stop praying for your miracle. Speak Scripture over your life—the Bible declares that God sends His word to heal (Psalm 107:20), and I am living proof. Confess any hidden sins, release un-forgiveness, and negative emotions you may be carrying unknowingly, and trust Jehovah Rapha to transform your situation.
*Jehovah Rapha is a biblical Hebrew name for God meaning "The Lord Who Heals," signifying His power and desire to restore physical, emotional, and spiritual brokenness.
A song that deeply resonates with my journey is “Flowers” by Samantha Ebert. Inspired by her own battle with Lyme disease, this speaks to finding hope, growth, and perseverance amid suffering—reminding us that beauty can bloom even in the darkest valleys. For me, it captures those long, dark seasons and the triumph of emerging on the mountaintop, overlooking a valley now filled with flowers—a beautiful symbol of gratitude and God’s redemptive power. I encourage you to listen.