The Beginning

When I was first diagnosed, I encountered some in my family and my faith community who had a whole lot to say to me. I know these people love me and want the best for me, so please know that I am not saying that people were spiteful or intentionally trying to be hurtful.  They were just trying to help. Still, some of the stuff they said to me was frustrating.

Here are some of the things people said to me:

• I don’t love myself, or I’m hating myself. This is why I have this disease.
• You need to be anointed from head to toe with blessed oil.
• I shouldn’t say “I have MS,” because speaking it would somehow empower it.
• I shouldn’t tell anyone about my diagnosis because they might interfere with my healing.
• I can’t console you because you might get stuck there.
• I needed to take communion every day.
• I should ignore my symptoms and do what I would do if I didn’t have the disease. Further, if your body is telling you to rest, don’t.
• I needed to act right to receive healing.

I do acknowledge and agree that there can be a spiritual connection to healing. But those statements implied that this diagnosis was my fault, that my healing depended entirely on performing certain behaviors correctly, and that if I just had enough faith or did enough of the “right” things, everything would resolve.

I was just getting my footing after being diagnosed. The things they said to me sent me into a tailspin for a while. It had me questioning my faith and trying to reconcile how I would ever be able to do everything right. It also seemed to imply that Jesus’ sacrifice wasn’t enough on its own…like I still had to work to earn what He had already provided.

And what about people who don’t believe in God yet still experience healing or remission? If healing only works by following certain spiritual rules, how does what you’re saying to me even work?

Grounding

I grounded myself and challenged some of their ideas.

Telling people that they did something wrong, and that is why they have an illness or disease, or that one wrong thought, word, or action will bring the sickness back, is wrong. If we weren’t going to think wrong things, there would be no need for the scriptures telling us to renew our minds and guard our hearts…

Telling people to do reckless things like not tell their family about their illness, because they may encounter those who are not in faith, is wrong.  Those closest to them need to know so they can help to care for them. Scripture encourages us to call others in for prayer and support. If we hide our struggles, who will stand with us?

It also isn’t wisdom to tell someone to ignore their symptoms and pretend they are fine.  If my symptoms include legs that are numb and vision impairment due to a migraine, I put others at risk if I get behind the wheel of a car to drive. Ignoring symptoms isn’t faith, it’s recklessness.

Healing doesn’t always look the same for everyone. For me, healing has included medical treatment, lifestyle changes, workplace accommodations, prayer, and God’s ongoing presence in the middle of it all.

Eight Years Later

In May of 2026, I will be 8 years post-diagnosis.

In addition to a treatment protocol in 2020 and 2021, I believe some of my healing has come from being given an accommodation to work from home. Before this, my fatigue was so severe that I would need to rest after my morning shower. I would also occasionally fall asleep while driving home from work, which was unsafe for everyone.

I’m happy to say that although there is still some pain, the pain that I started with, I don’t have anymore. I have some days with no pain at all!

The cognitive issues I was having in the beginning left abruptly after a prayer in a healing video my husband’s aunt sent me. Now, 8 years later, after having daily brain fog, I have very minimal brain fog days.

I was on medication for fatigue, and have been able to stop taking that with no daily recurring fatigue. It still shows up, but not as much as before.

My MRI scans continue to show no new lesions, which indicates that the MS is not progressing and is stable.

While I am still affected by symptoms and flares, it is not as bad as pre-diagnosis and the beginning stages. 

God is moving on my behalf, and I’m not questioning the process.

Faith isn’t about jumping through spiritual hoops.

For me, faith looks like trusting God, inviting others into the situation who can support and pray for me, and refusing to accept shame.

Faith is believing in a better outcome, even though it may not be evident at present.

Faith is enduring no matter what the journey looks like.