It Sounds Like God To Me

© Copyright 2007 by Phil Scovell - All Rights Reserved



                                       4

                         Healed In Thirty Seconds Or Less


                              By Phil Scovell






          One would think a blind person, after more than 40 years of total
     blindness,  would  not  have  anything  they  had  not   adjusted  to,
     especially  after all  the training  and teaching  by schools  for the
     blind and  rehabilitation centers.   In fact,  such programs  do their
     best  to program a  person not  to feel blind,  not to act  blind, and
     certainly not to think blind.  It is silly, of course, because you end
     up  doing  something  nearly  every  day which  reminds  you  of  your
     blindness.    You  stub  your  toe, bump  your  head,  trip  over your
     children's,   or  grandchildren's,   tricycle,  bicycle,   skateboard,
     motorcycle, or step on  a sleeping cat or dog in the living room.  You
     can drop a screw and hunt for it for an hour, only to discover you are
     sitting  on  it.   You  misplace  your hat,  put  on one  each  of two
     different shoes or  boots or socks,  or be rubbing  your false eye  in
     church and it  accidentally pops out.  You can climb into the backseat
     of your car, which you personally paid  for, that your 16 year old son
     is now driving and suddenly feel depressed without understanding  why.
     You  can be attempting to cross the street  with a cane or a guide dog
     and feel the bus  swish by just as  you step into the street  when the
     light has turned green for you and red for it.  You  can get up early,
     shower and shave, get dressed in your Sunday-go-to-meetin  clothes and
     sit for two hours, waiting for a promised ride for church  which never
     arrives.
          Every blind person I know could write a book on such events which
     can  easily  remind  us   that  we  are  blind.    Some  agencies  and
     organizations attempt to try and make you forget that you are blind or
     even to  suggest your blindness  is just a physical  inconvenience for
     which there  are always methods  that can be successfully  employed to
     circumvent the nuisance  of being blind.  The real truth is, you never
     forget because you are always constantly reminded many times a day.
          Our home based  church Sunday meeting was over  and everyone left
     to go find some lunch.  I walked into our bedroom and  began to change
     clothes.   As  I was hanging  up my  pants and shirt,  an old familiar
     memory flashed into  my mind.  This memory was related to my blindness
     because it happened shortly after  I had lost my sight at  11 years of
     age.  I thought nothing of this memory as I stood placing the  hangers
     on  the rod  because I had  seen the  memory hundreds and  hundreds of
     times throughout  my life.  It never bothered  me because I had become
     acclimated, or as my  mother-in-law used to say, savvy,  to such blind
     annoyances.  The methodology was simple.   Just push the images  away,
     or in other words, just  let it go and attempt not to focus on it.  So
     each time this memory  flashed on to my  mental screen, as it were,  I
     quickly dismissed it as unimportant.   That's what I began to do  this
     time, too.
          Turning, I closed the closet door and walked to the other side of
     the bedroom where my other clothes lay and began putting them on.  The
     memory was still  in my mind but  fading fast because I  attributed no
     importance to it.
          Suddenly I  stopped.   I intensified  the memory  until it  was a
     solid picture in my mind.   I knew, since this memory was  repetitive,
     and  not a particular happy memory  by any stretch of the imagination,
     there had to be something  in this memory the Lord wanted to  heal for
     me.
          Putting on my clothes, I left  the bedroom and walked directly to
     my office on the other side of our home.
          Seated behind my  desk, I focused  on the memory  once again.   I
     began  to pray.   I pray  a little  different than one  might think in
     these particular  situations.  I never say a  word; I just exchange my
     thoughts for God's.
          Shortly after  losing my  sight, my  mom and  I went  to see  her
     family.  Nearly all of her 11 brothers and sisters and their families,
     and her parents, lived in Kansas.
          I always enjoyed seeing all of my cousins and this time, we spent
     the night with Uncle  Garald and Aunt Burnace  or as we called her  as
     kids, Aunt B.  The unusual thing about this family is that my aunt and
     uncle had 5 girls and no boys.  My younger sister, Ruth and I, plugged
     right into  the middle of the  age groups represented by  this family.
     This visit was different, however, because I was now blind.   Yet, all
     went well, at first, until late that first night.
          We all  dragged out blankets and pillows to sleep all together in
     the living room.  This  was a common practice when we all got together
     because  we all  liked to  talk and  giggle, tell  scary stories,  and
     generally drive our parents crazy.
          It was growing late but we were  far from tired.  My mom and  her
     sister  were seated  at  the  kitchen table  visiting  softly as  they
     occasionally tossed a  watchful eye over to the pillow  fight that had
     erupted.
          I had my head under my  blanket and was being beat to death  by 6
     pajama clad  girls when  suddenly,  a corner  of  a pillow  struck  my
     blanket directly where one of my eyes was.  It hurt but not as much as
     I cried.   Everybody went  dead still.   They were  probably thinking,
     "Oh, no.  We hurt Phil and he's blind now."
          I was thinking, "I'm not really hurt but I am blind now, and that
     really hurts."
          Finally, Aunt B said she was sorry and soon all was forgotten and
     we resumed our pillow fight.
          None of my girl  cousins, as I called  them, ever knew it, but  I
     really  loved them all very much.  I  had three sisters of my own so I
     was  used to  being around  girls but  there seemed  something special
     about  having so many girl cousins  and I had a  bunch.  We all played
     well together  and we always had  fun.  I  really did love them,  as I
     said, but this was back in  the days when such things were never  ever
     mentioned.
          As  I sat  at my  desk,  thinking about  this harmless  childhood
     memory, I said, "Lord, there's nothing wrong with this memory."
          "How did you feel?" I heard  the Holy Spirit say quietly into  my
     thoughts."
          "I felt blind,"  I replied quickly and honestly.  You see, at the
     moment  that pillow hit me  in the eye, I realized,  not for the first
     time, that I was now blind.  Therefore, I was different.
          The Holy Spirit gently said, "Yes, and how did you really feel?"
          I thought  for perhaps two  seconds and then  a smile  creased my
     face because I saw the lie the Lord wanted me to recognize for what it
     was.   I said confidently, "I'm not like my cousins any more."  I knew
     why, of course, and so did the  Holy Spirit, because I was blind.  The
     fact of  blindness, however, was  not the lie.   The lie was  I was no
     longer like my cousins.
          Before  I could allow my  thoughts to barely  touch on what Jesus
     wanted me to know about this, I heard His voice, "No, you are not like
     them any longer; you are like me."
          This was not a  major place of woundedness or so  it would appear
     on  the surface.   Every  lie  we believe  is, however,  exactly that;
     major.  Why?   Because it hinders our  spiritual intimate relationship
     with  the Lord.  The moment Jesus said  I was like Him now, I felt the
     instant relief.  The lie was  gone and the memory no longer  contained
     any  pain.  I  could now actually feel  the love I  had for my cousins
     which I had never recognized before.
          The title of this testimony is  how long my prayer, my  exchanged
     thoughts for  God's, lasted.  You,  too, can be healed  from emotional
     pain and woundedness that quickly.