Recovery from CFS by Spiritual Means

Note: Reverend John Phillips has an extensive webpage about CFS/FMS and many other topics including his minestry and his fascinating spiritual journey. He has belonged to and studied many religions in his lifetime, and has posted writings about of them at his site. But in the end he came "home" to Christianity (the religion he was raised with). Unfortunately, his full story is much too long for my page, so I have pieced together bits of it to give you a general idea of how his healing transpired. This first section is about the onset of his illness, and the second part is about his healing. To read his full story at his website, click here. For the edited version, read on!


Rev. John's Story

Around 1985 I developed an annoying limp in my left leg. It wasn't bad, but it was mildly uncomfortable and, in time, it made it impossible to continue my hauling business. As a result, I took a position in San Francisco as a tour driver. I drove a 30 foot motorized cable car around the City by the Bay showing tourists the sights by day and attending university by night. The limp didn't go away, but it didn't get much worse for a while either.

One morning in 1989, I awoke in the worst pain I had ever experienced in my life. Pulling myself out of our waterbed, I dropped my feet to the floor and stood up - but only for a moment!

White-hot pain shot up my legs, my ankles exploded in excruciating, stabbing pain, and I collapsed to the floor screaming and crying uncontrollably.

As the weeks and months merged into the oblivion of my disability I was unable to walk more than a few steps at a time. Days, nights, weeks and months became meaningless concepts to my unending hell on earth. My memory was so seriously impacted that at times I could not remember my wife's name, or even her face on a few occasions. I routinely slept non-stop for two to five days as if comatose. I was always extremely fatigued. Staying awake for more than a few hours at a time was more than I could bear (later, as the illness developed, I had the exact opposite experience. I'd be sleep deprived for days on end!). I became so light sensitive that I had to remain indoors with the blinds drawn during even winter days, I often wore two pairs of sunglasses even indoors due to the excruciated burning sensation caused by the slightest amount of light. Even overhead lights and lamps were nearly intolerable to me. On three or four occasions I became completely blind for hours to an entire day on one occasion.

One morning during this unceasing hell that was my life I woke up seemingly on fire! The best way I have found to describe the sensation is that it's like having thousands of angry fire ants crawling upside down under my skin. It was a rolling, stinging, moving agony that covered my entire body, especially my mid-section down to my lower thighs. As I awoke I frantically threw off my clothing, beating my skin to no avail. My wife grabbed the wheel chair and helped me into an ice cold bath. That soothed the burning temporarily, but it made my bones explode with cold-contractions as though they were literally shrinking. This fire ant/crawling/burning sensation under my skin became one of the frequent and most unpleasant features of the inexplicable roving sensations that I was forced to live with.

Another Note: Rev. John continued his struggle with CFS and Fibromylagia Syndrome for the next 10 years. He did not get relief from his symptoms, but after more spiritual searching he found his place in religion. He settled in Santa Cruz, California and joined the local Metropolitan Community Church congregation. The next section is about a major healing that he experienced at an MCC conference he goes to annually.

In late January of 1999 I again attended the Long Beach MCC Charismatic Conference. I attended in my wheelchair, sicker this year than I had been for a while. My "fire ant skin" problems were worse, the fatigue was worse... I really doubted that I should have gone this year. I had missed the conference two years prior when my health was better than it was this year. Yet as we made plans for the trip, I knew I had to go this year.

Most years I was one of the first people to line up, to show God I was sincere about being healed you understand! This year I remained where I was, watching everyone else line up. From time to time the sound of shouting would fill the hall as someone was healed. As usual, there were several impressive healings wrought that night. From time to time I'd look up, offer a prayer, then zone back into my world of oblivion and pain. There was no way I was going up this year. Silently I confessed to God that I was just too tired to go up to the front. If God wanted to heal me it could happen in the back of the hall as easily as it could up front. After all, it was God, not the people up front who did the healings. With this I was content.

"Your grace us sufficient for me" I prayed; "whether you heal me or not."

No sooner had I prayed this prayer - which, while prayed in sincerity was also a cop-out to justify my unwillingness to go forward - the Holy Spirit impressed upon my heart two clear commands. One, I was to gather my church around me and two I was to go to Reverend Elder Freda Smith, who was praying for people on the far left side of the hall. In wordless correction I informed God that our congregants there were scattered all over the hall and that there was no way I could possibly round them all up and secondly, I was too weak to push my chair through the crowd. Maybe next year.

I looked up and everyone from our church who was present at the conference was standing around me. I glanced to my right and my pastor, Rev. Jean Hart, said "You need to go up and be healed!"

"I know," I replied as she turned my chair into the line and began pushing me forward. The line of people moved aside, like Jean was parting the sea or something. As she pushed me down the aisle it seemed as though every head turned to me with expectation. I knew beyond any doubt that all these people knew, beyond any doubt, that they were about to witness an impressive healing. I mean, all along the aisle people stood speechless, waiting, clearing our path.

As we approached the front Freda, the Senior Pastor of MCC Sacramento, motioned for us to come on up. She looked at me and began asking Jesus for my healing. I was surrounded by the prayers of a lot of people. In my spirit I felt that people all over the hall were praying and that the invisible cloud of surrounding saints were in agreement, the time for my healing had arrived.

I stood up for a moment, then lowered myself back into the chair as pain shot up my legs and my skin burned as the army of fire ants intensified their demonic coup.

Freda was praying in tongues, as were so many others. At one point, it seemed to me, she fell back a bit and was supported by someone behind her. Something had let go I momentarily thought. A Word of Wisdom came to me saying that God had healed me and that I must return to the ministry with the message of God's inclusive love for everyone. I was to be in the ministry or breaking down the walls of division wherever I found them. I cried that I would gladly accept this, and then a wave of fatigue covered me and I practically melted into my chair. My left leg began to throb and I felt worse than I had before we went forward.

As someone pushed my chair back up the aisle, I noted the look on the faces of those we passed. They were sorely disappointed. They had been so certain that a major miracle was in the making. They just knew I'd be leaving the wheel chair and dancing in the aisles! I hated to disappoint them, but what I hated even worse was being there. I wanted to get out of that hall, to go into hiding.

No healing, again.

The next morning I awoke, was helped into a car by my lady love Andrea, and we drove to Garden Grove for a pastor's conference at the Crystal Cathedral.

For economy sake, Andrea and I shared our room with our pastor and her partner. This conference flew by with very little awareness on my part. I mainly stayed in the hotel room during the conference stifled by the Southern California heat, the burning of my skin and the throbbing of my muscles. If anything, I was sinking fast. On one occasion I actually picked up the phone to call 911 due to the intense pain, but hung up after the first 1. I went to sleep instead.

Deeply immersed in the fibro fog, the otherworldly zone common to those with my illness, I somehow ended up back home in Santa Cruz and fell soundly and deeply asleep.

The next morning I awoke pain free! This may sound odd to you, but this was a very rare occurrence for me! That day I felt fairly good, also rare! I could walk around the house without trouble or pain.

The next day I awoke feeling even better. I went into the living room hopping up and down, an impossibility before!

Within a week my light sensitivity was gone. I could walk blocks with little or no pain. My memory was much improved as well.

My healing was not instantaneous, and today, seven months later, it is not yet complete, but its getting there!

On July 1st God lead me to begin a new ministry, Grace Inclusive Church. Our message? God's love and grace is for everyone, period. We are an inclusive, evangelical, charismatic Christian congregation. God is blessing our fledgling congregation and we feel certain in the Spirit that wonderful things lay ahead as we go on for Jesus!



Final Note: Unfortunately, Rev. John's recovery was not complete or permanent. However, he continues to share inspiring words about God's power to heal. Following is the story of the end of his remission and his thoughts on his eventual relapse :

I came to believe that after ten years God had finally answered my prayer. Based on this conviction, Rev. Eden Jakajebarga-Bell and I founded Grace Inclusive Church. At this time we intend to keep the church going, however Pastor Eden will be taking on much more of the ministry responsibilities.

In August my friend the Evangelist Arthur Blessitt came to San Francisco for the first time in 20 years to carry his cross (Arthur has carried a 12x6 ft. wooden cross across every nation and continent on earth -- it was his example that inspired me to do a similar walk in the late 70's). I was overjoyed to see him again and felt certain that it was God's timing for him to come so near to where I live. I walked with Arthur in San Francisco (though I had to cancel one walk and forego his Marin County walk due to health problems) and afterwards felt led to begin plans for my Rainbow Cross Walk.

Returning to Santa Cruz, we made the cross (thanks Cy!) and I carried it around town a few times. While my body was not happy with this, my health held and I began making plans for the Rainbow Cross Walk, from Santa Cruz to San Francisco.

About this same time, I was invited to join an all expense paid short term missions trip to Buenos Aires, Argentina with Harvest Evangelism. It seemed positively miraculous timing and I took it as a sign of God's providence.

Once in Argentina the minor symptoms which had never left me began to flare up. By November 5th I was in a lot of pain as fibromylagia again racked my body. The memory problems were also coming back, as were the fatigue, nausea, and other symptoms. The last couple of days I did as little as possible and looked forward to returning home. I was getting seriously concerned that I might collapse at any moment. Thankfully God held me together until I arrived home.

A few well meaning friends have suggested that I overdid it, that Argentina was too much too fast. It seems to me however that if by faith one accepts God's healing then that healing should be fully accepted, unless the Spirit says otherwise of course. I believed I had been healed. I accepted this in faith, and there was no way I was going to "make room for the enemy" so to speak by entertaining thoughts that the work was anything less than complete. Had I never become disabled the trip would not have been "too much" and so accepting God's complete healing it was inconceivable to me that I should limit that work by doubting God's efficacy. Perhaps this was/is naive, but this was/is my reasoning. Were I in the same situation again I would go to Argentina and do everything the exact same way.

We returned to the US on the 9th and by that time it was obvious that the "healing" had only been a remission. The illness had returned with a vengeance. Part of me wanted to hope that it was just the heightened activity level, jet lag, the food, etc. Unfortunately, this is clearly not the case. I am still very ill and have accordingly canceled the Rainbow Cross Walk and all other non-internet activities, except for our church as I have explained above.

Why does God heal some people and not others? Healings definitely happen. I've seen too many of them over the years to question this. Rev. Ed Silvoso of Harvest Evangelism gave the best answer I know of:

Once a famous faith healer was asked why it was that not everyone who attended his crusades was healed, although a great many were. He replied, "You know, I was wondering that too so I asked God about it, and God told me to mind my own business! It was my job to pray for healings and God's to decide who would receive them.

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