How not to catch a wild cat
…and a real life tale of the healing power of communion.
The morning of the conference dawned. I stretched and looked forward to a coffee and my quiet time preparing with the Lord. I’d been squeezed in at the last minute to join the lineup of speakers at a local Christian conference in Dargaville. Padding to the kitchen to put the jug on, I remembered that I’d set a trap to catch a wild cat that was being a real problem. Trouble was, our wild cat trap didn’t work, so I’d hatched a very bad plan to trap it in the laundry room, and then just ‘put it in the cat carrier cage.’ Sounded all good if you’ve never tried to ‘pick up a wild cat’ before. I mean how wild can a wild cat be?
No, that’s not Bob
I opened the laundry door a crack and peeped inside. We had a live one sitting on the windowsill looking at me. Nice pussy. Flip it was big. It didn’t look wild though. In my naivety I reached out and grabbed it by the scruff of the neck… so far, so good. It was huge and heavy. As I lowered it into the open cat cage, it boosted itself off the edge of the lid and wrapped its body around my calf, embedding every deadly weapon it had into my bare leg. I screamed and stared in shock and disbelief as it bit down as hard and deep as it could with its long fangs three times before I came to my senses.
I still had an iron grip on its neck. As I pulled the feral animal off my leg, twenty claws ripped their way out of my calf muscle from the back to the front, and the fangs tore their way out of the deep holes. I slam-dunked the cat into the cage and tried to shut the lid while avoiding further injury as it continued its attack through the bars of the cage. This cat was as wild as any wild animal could possibly be…
Stuff the quiet time, stuff the coffee.. I tried to get dressed quickly so I had time to call into the medical centre for some antibiotics on the way to the conference. My jeans hurt my leg too much to wear. All I could cope with were my daggy old harem pants, and my slippers. The doctor didn’t really understand how deep the puncture wounds were, and gave them a cursory clean and dished out the antibiotics, which I downed immediately. By the time I rocked up to the conference my leg was in serious agony and I had to put my foot high up on the back of the chair in front of me. The conference attendees must have thought I was surely taking the Mickey when I got up to speak in my homie pants and slippers.
Somehow I got through the day, but by evening, the pain was 15 out of 10. My leg was on fire. I couldn’t even have a sheet on it. A red line had travelled up my leg to my knee, and down to my ankle, and every cell in between was red, swollen and screaming in agony. And this was only Day 1!
“Wow!” I said to Ray. “My leg is really not happy!”
I’d heard of cellulitis before, but just thought it was cellulite or something. I didn’t know its very serious, and that it can quickly turn into sepsis blood poisoning, which can be life-threatening. I also didn’t realise that I had cellulitis, but I knew I was in trouble. Still, I wasn't keen on a mission to Whangarei Hospital at that moment. I just wanted to go to sleep.
“Well, we’d better have communion,” he said.
We’d just had a revelation on the healing power of communion from Joseph Prince’s little book, Health and Wholeness through the Holy Communion. Until then, I’d heard so many flowery mini-sermons during communion that I had no idea what communion was really all about. But as Joseph Prince points out, it’s this simple: Jesus body (the bread) broken for our healing. Jesus blood (wine or juice) for the forgiveness of sin.
Isaiah 53:5 (NIV)
But he was pierced for our transgressions,
he was crushed for our iniquities;
the punishment that brought us peace was on him,
and by his wounds we are healed.
1 John 1:7
the blood of Jesus, his Son, purifies us from all sin.
Body, healing.
Blood, forgiveness of sin.
Of course there is much more to the richness and mystery of communion, but this is the essence of it in its simplest form. So in that simplicity, I (symbolically) put my leg on the broken body of Jesus and received my healing (ate the cracker). I (symbolically) poured the blood of Jesus over my leg to cleanse it from all unrighteousness (drank the juice), and received my healing by faith.
Then I went to sleep.
In the morning, by God’s grace and the incredible healing power of communion, the red line had retreated dramatically back to a 1cm circle around the main puncture wound. It was a miracle! A couple of weeks later, I heard of the tragic death of a lady who had died very quickly of a similar infection, whose antibiotics hadn’t worked. My own uncle died of a similar thing many, many years ago, leaving my aunty a young widow with three small children.
2 Timothy 3 speaks of terrible times in these last days… people having a form of godliness but denying its power. With news of the latest viral pandemic, I can feel the spirit of fear as the death-toll rises, trying to find a hook. The world is selling fear, but I’m not buying it. I refuse to live in fear of any sickness or disease because I have experienced first-hand the supernatural healing power available to us, so we can walk in divine health. Let’s use it!
Janet xox
Hear my story in podcast by Megan McChesney, Back from the Abyss
Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, the new creation has come: The old has gone, the new is here! -2 Corinthians 5:17
Do not conform any longer to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. -Romans 12:2
Put off your old self, which is being corrupted by its deceitful desires; to be made new in the attitude of your minds; and to put on the new self, created to be like God in true righteousness and holiness. -Ephesians 4:22-24
Visit janetbalcombe.com to learn more about my books, blogs or to connect with me. To see what else I’m up to, visit: wildsidetrust.org, wildsideministries.com and wildsidedesign.net
