For a number of years as a young adult, I had recurring tonsillitis. Whenever my tonsils were swollen, it was almost impossible for me to talk or eat. One time when it happened while my three children were small, I was barely able to move around the house and was miserable. My husband took the children out to dinner, and not being able to go with them gave me one more reason to feel sorry for myself.

Not having eaten for several days, I thought I might be able to swallow a little custard, so I shuffled through the process of making it but ended up spilling hot milk all over my cookbook. At that point I could suddenly see myself as if looking from the outside in, and I realized how ludicrous this pathetic, shuffling impostor was. It certainly wasn’t the real me, the perfect, spiritual reflection of God that each of us actually is. I couldn’t help laughing, though laughing wasn’t very comfortable.

And with that, I challenged the false picture of sickness. I thought, “You are not the boss of me! God is my boss, because He made me, and He made me perfect.” I saw that since the problem wasn’t truly in charge of me as God’s perfect image and likeness, it had no power over me. And that was it. I stopped feeling that the lie was true. In a day or two I was completely free.