Rescue Me, Lord!
A Story of Spiritual and Physical Healing
by Violeta Slizh
Discovering My Emptiness
I have always loved horses; I grew up riding and taking care of them. However, one day in 1978, when I was twenty years old, as I was riding, my horse threw me. The fall injured my head and upper spinal column. Up until then, I had everything I thought I had ever longed forinteresting work, success, money, and adventure. I was surrounded by numerous friends and admirers. Everything I did turned out well. But the accident gave me a chance to think about the purpose of my life and about God. Sometimes feelings of emptiness seized me, and my attempts to fill this emptiness were unsuccessful. A couple of years later, I moved to Tbilisi in Georgia. There was a Catholic Church thereone of the few in the Soviet Unionand I remember going to visit it one day. At the church, I met a woman with kind eyes who tried to explain to me the truths of the faith. Looking back, I realize she was probably an underground nun who would have been sent to a slave camp if word got out about who she was. Despite this woman's words, I couldn't make sense of the odd rituals. The sign of the cross and the practice of kneeling down before the tabernacle and the altar seemed especially to be ridiculous anachronisms. In reality, pride was preventing me from seeing that the church is God's house. I told myself that church is for weak people, and that I didn't need it. I could find God inside of myself, on my own. A year later, I left Tbilisi and moved to Kharkov, in the far eastern part of Ukraine. For some reason, on my first day there, I combed the center of town in search of a Catholic Church. When I found one, I felt happy, but as I approached it, I saw that it was being used instead for a regional government office. There was no altar. There was no woman with kind eyes waiting to talk to me about faith. It would be twelve more years before this building would be returned to the church. I thought I had found God inside of myself, but alone, outside of the church, it is not possible to keep him. In the meantime, my health was failing. Three years after my accident, I started experiencing headaches and weakness. Every six months, I would end up in the hospital for tests and treatments, but the suffering continued.Rescue Me!
My enlightenment occurred unexpectedly. During a trip to Krakow, Poland, I visited the Marian Church there to see a famous altar made by Witus Stwoszsomething I had heard about for a long time and longed to see. Little did realize what God had in store for me. In one very intense moment, I understood everything about myself and about God. 1 could not leave the church. I remained there until the evening praying, for the first time speaking with Christ as my Lord. It was painful to recognize the truth about myself. I cried out, "O Lord, I am weak and sinful, but rescue me! Save me from myself! I cannot live without you!" The emptiness had reached its limit, and I cried out to the Lord to save me.Finally, on April 17, 1991, the church in Kharkov reopened, and three weeks later I crossed its threshold. Holy Communion seemed strange to me, and my hands and legs felt like wood and refused to bend before the Lord. But as I prayed before the Blessed Sacrament, my legs finally did bend by the themselves and I kneeled down before the hidden Jesus. The feeling of love that I experienced continued even after I left the church, and stayed with me in the office, at home, on the train or buseverywhere I went. I understood that "He who eats my flesh and drinks my blood abides in me, and I in him" (John 6:56). On May 29,1 received my first Holy Communion. Though I recognized how unworthy I was, I also realized that I could not live without Jesus.
In early 1995, when I was thirty-eight years old, I was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis. The gloomy prognosisblindness, deafness, losing the mobility of my arms and legs, and an early deathwas no longer a remote possibility, but very close at hand. Earlier, I had thought that I could endure any trial. What a delusion! I felt unable to endure it any longer. I was a burden to my friends and family members, and I wanted my life to end as soon as possible.Fighting Despair
My one consolation was in the passion of Christ. His crucifixion was constantly before my eyes, and I united my sufferings with him. At the time, I didn't understand that my pride was keeping me from asking for healing.-
However, I didn't think that
healing was possible. The doctors had told me that my illness was incurable,
and I was too pragmatic and rational to believe in miracles. They only
happened during Jesus' earthly life. However, a priest, Father Miroslaw,
would visit me once a week and give me Jesus hidden in the bread. The
Eucharist gave me strength not to despair completely, and to hold out a
little longer.
During one of those long
evenings of pain and sadness, I came across this scripture: "Come, let us
return to Yahweh. He has rent us and he will heal us; he has struck us and
he will bind up our wounds; after two days he will revive us, on the third
day he will raise us up and we shall live in his presence" (Hosea 6:1-2). I
felt a glimmer of hope.
It was late autumn. The cold
weather had settled in and the sky was a transparent blue. In the woods near
my house, however, among the brown dry leaves there were small violet
flowers and bright emerald grasses. I thought, "Maybe it's because I won't
see another spring that the Lord is giving me a glimpse of it now." But for
some reason, I wasn't afraid. I had found peace.
Victory in the Blood of Jesus
Then, on the last Thursday in November, Father Miroslaw visited me with three friends from church, along with three people from the Protestant church whom I had never met before. Father Miroslaw asked me, "Do you want to be healed?" "Yes, "I answered. "But it's impossible. My illness is incurable." "But our God is the Lord of all. It is in his power to give you health! Do you believe that Jesus loves you and doesn't want you to suffer?" "Yes, I believe." And the work began. While it is difficult to describe what was going through my mind for the next two hours, I remember praying, "Jesus, I believe that you are living, risen and now acting in the same way as you did two thousand years ago. Send your Spirit, the Spirit of healing!" I knew that the Lord had promised that if two or three come together in his name, he would be among them. "Be with us, Jesus!" Then, in an instant, the small room where I was lying became huge. I had a vision of many people, not just the seven people who were physically there, but thousands who prayed to the Lord. And Jesus came! He looked like Sister Faustina's portrait of Divine Mercy. Blood was running from his pierced hands, and as he touched my head, I was overcome with joy. His blood soaked in me, washed my brain, and poured down my body. It was dissolving everything that was harmful or unnecessary.The skin on my hands and legs became sensitive again, and my spine resumed its natural form. My left leg, which was one centimeter shorter than the other, became as long as the right one. The miracle happened! Our voices merged in song: "He has given us a victory! The evil one is defeated! Death does not reign any more! Jesus is our Lord! Hallelujah!" One week later, I was examined by my doctors, who could find nothing wrong with me. I was completely healthy.
Set Free To Serve
I strongly believe that Jesus didn't just heal me for my own sake. He opened doors for me to give my life to him in service. On the very weekend that I was healed, my good friend Irina was in Warsaw making arrangements for herself and me to begin translating and publishing The Word Among Us for the people of Ukraine. Now, 10 years later, we have over 5 thousand readers, both in Ukraine and other former Soviet Bloc countries.
Since that day, I have reflected on Jesus' healing of the paralytic (Mark 2:1-12). I thought that if I should be brought to Jesus, I would not find just four friends, but many more. I am grateful to everyone who has helped me believe in the risen Christ: to all my friends, known and unknown, who prayed and "stripped the roof" (Mark 2:4)not only in Ukraine, but also in Russia, Poland, Spain, Sweden, and everywhere.
O Lord, I no longer belong to myself. My life is your life, for my life is already finished, and the new one you have given me belongs completely to you.
Violeta Slizh lives in Kharkov, Ukraine, where she translates The Word Among Us into Russian for distribution to Ukraine and Russia.
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