It started as a little desire that rattled around in my heart like a wayward pinball. I shared with a friend, “I just want to help those who live too far away to come into my office. Depression doesn’t have to be a way of life.”
She affirmed what my heart already sensed, “All of your years of training, as well as your decades of experience and your love of writing, puts you in an excellent place to write a book, a resource for those in need.”
Have you ever been in a painful place and wondered where God was in the midst of it all? Have you ever found yourself smack dab in the middle of the valley and wondered what to do about it or if anyone cared? Today I have the pleasure of introducing you to my friend, Lyli Dunbar, who shares her experience as an encouragement to you in that place. Lyli is an encourager and a prayer warrior at heart. I know you’ll be blessed by her post.
While I am an author, I am also an avid reader of other authors’ books, and am frequently asked for resources to help my patients, friends, and family with situations they encounter. So I thought you might like to see my Top 25 list of favorite books I’ve read in the past year. My 25 best books on living a fulfilled life.
The radiation technician’s smile was comforting as she held my hand to steady me as I got down on the cold, hard “bed.” She very calmly explained each step of the procedure to me. She didn’t know my professional background, or that I knew the intricacies of this procedure. Nor did she know that I needed the assurances as a patient rather than a doctor that day.
“I’m going to leave you, but I’ll be able to hear you from behind the wall if you need anything. The machine will tell you when to breathe and when to hold your breath.” No sooner had she said that and I realized I had already been holding my breath, for what seemed like days.
Ever since my doctor informed me, “We need to run a few more tests to get a better idea of what’s causing your pain,” I had been holding my breath…waiting.
“Would you pray for me?” the young woman asked, head bowed and eyes hidden from my gaze by her long, dark hair. “It would be my honor. How would you like me to pray for you?” I asked as I took her hands in mine, after handing her a tissue to dry her eyes as the cascade of tears began to flow. “I need God to heal me…” her voice barely a whisper now, as the tears caught in her throat.