This disease became a constant reality - something to be reckoned with in increasing measure. Its progress in seizing control of my body was slow but relentless. Medication offered periods of time when I could forget, but always the disease stalked me - never giving back the ground it gained.
There were other issues as well, and eventually it all became too much for me. My life had come to a painful halt; and had brought me to a place I did not know. Because of things that happened along the way, my faith in God had been shaken to the very core, leaving me in pain - in confusion - and weary through and through.
I was overwhelmed with the feeling that Jesus - who had been holding me - dropped me.... Everything I had believed was called into question. My faith was challenged. I no longer was sure of who God was.
I could no longer pray or read my Bible. I stopped going to church. I found that the only shred of my former life still within me was some tiny bit of faith that would not let me deny that there was a God. And even that bit of faith was not something I could take credit for: I knew that God had given it - allowed it to remain within me. I had reached the end of my rope and was slipping.