It was the fall of 2023. I sat on top of a mountain looking out onto Canyonlands National Park in Utah. Unable to speak or break my gaze, all I could focus on were the colors reflecting off the red rock cliffs, much like the colors of our Thanksgiving table setting. Rich oranges, subtle browns, even the slightest hint of sage green in the walls added the perfect accent to all of the bold colors.
I have felt the Spirit of God many times throughout my walk with Christ and have had a handful of mountaintop (pun intended) experiences that shaped my relationship with Him. The most impressionable and intense was when I was 16 years old, standing in front of a photo that represented Jesus Christ Himself. I was so overcome by The Spirit I couldn’t move. I could only lock eyes with the picture that was drawn to represent Him. Standing in awe, unable to move or speak, only breathing in His Holy Spirit.
More than two decades later, sitting on a sandstone formation, looking out into the most beautiful sight I had ever seen, there He was again. In that distant whistle in the air, in the colors of the walls, and in the depth of the water below, He was with me, much like that clear night on top of a hill in Kentucky as a teenager.
A few weeks later, as I prepared my heart for a time of prayer and fasting, I wrote in my journal, “God, let me be in awe of You the way I was looking out into the Canyonlands.” And oh, how He would.
In just a few short days after I wrote those words, I was diagnosed with Stage III Rectal Cancer. I don’t have the space to tell you all the ways that God was kind to me during this difficult time, but I not only came out of it physically healed, but also spiritually healed as He answered my prayer. I stood in awe of Him through the love and favor He showed me, along with the countless prayers and support from our friends, family, and church community.
As a believer, I know that our journey doesn’t automatically become easy just because we follow Jesus. But it does become bearable. It becomes blessed. I experienced God on a whole different level through my battle with cancer. And I continue to experience Him.
About a year after my final surgery, a routine follow-up scan showed what a cancer survivor always fears: recurrence. I’ll remember it as plain as day. It was a Wednesday evening, just before I was to teach on the Armor of God and the schemes of the enemy. Our close friend and physician found my husband and me to give us the news. There was a large mass on my liver.
It didn’t seem real. For 365 days, from the time I was diagnosed to my final surgery, I had done everything my medical team suggested to ensure I would have the lowest percentage of recurrence.
As we sat in the church office, stunned, there was an urgency and strength inside me that told me I had to get up and teach regardless of the information I had just been handed. What is the point of having faith, learning Scripture, and fighting the enemy if I was just going to cave at every piece of bad news I might receive?
After class, I joined my husband in that same office and was surrounded by our closest friends, elders, and pastors who shared our news.
Prayer has many different purposes. Confession. Thanksgiving. Intercession. If you have ever been on the receiving end of an intercessory prayer, it is one of the most humbling experiences. I once heard it said that praying for someone is the highest form of love.
They gathered on my behalf and loved me so well. They prayed for my healing and for a miracle.
And then something happened to me.
I felt a physical burning inside my chest. It was hot, and I felt led to speak to the Father of Lies, the enemy that was causing so much fear and anguish. I didn’t speak long, but I spoke directly.
This Methodist girl from Greensburg, Kentucky, had only felt the physical manifestation of the Holy Spirit a handful of times. But this was one of them.
The heat left my body. Tears streamed down my face. I knew something powerful had taken place in that room, though I didn’t know what it was. I felt empowered, strong and stable.
It wouldn’t be until two days later that a second scan would show nothing there.
That same doctor, that same friend who had shared the gut-wrenching news, called on the most beautiful spring afternoon. With joy in her voice and thanksgiving in her heart, she said, “It’s not there!”
And when I said those words to myself, I was reminded of what transpired in the prayer room just two days before. That heat that was inside of me left when I spoke directly to the enemy. Like a wave rushing out, it was gone. Whatever mass had shown up on my liver was gone. And I knew who took it away.
I learned a long time ago that there are three different scenarios when we face trials. We can be delivered from the fire, and therefore our faith is built. We can be delivered through the fire, therefore refining our faith. And we can be delivered by the fire into His arms, where our faith is perfected in Heaven.
My faith has been built and refined in ways I could never have imagined. Healing, no matter the scenario, is always meant to point people toward Jesus. Miraculous healing is used to strengthen our faith in the ultimate Healer. I know it has strengthened mine.
I am so thankful that He doesn’t just show Himself through powerful miracles, but that He also shows Himself through medicine, through people, and even through red rock walls.
This Thanksgiving season, I pray no matter where you are and no matter what you are facing that you find yourself in awe of Him.
-by Lindsay Scarborough
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