My Lesson About Auras
July 30, 2020:
This is a story of how intentional God has been with my cancer, and the life lessons he imposes on me during my chemo days. I don’t know many folks that get chemo and experience no pain because of it. I’ve been one of them. If I had pain, I’d be too distracted to get still and I would have received nothing. God knew this about me. I had no pain on chemo day from October 12, 2016 until 2020.
Due to the COVID situation, they now want cancer patients in and out of the hospital as soon as possible. The nurses were constantly attending to us and at the ready to transfer our drip bags ASAP. It was impossible for me to get still. As a result, my usual chemo day experiences were unattainable, and subsequently, I started to feel pain… the pain that most folks feel from day one. Was this intentional on God’s part? Indeed! He is totally in control of all things, even this little detail of my care.
This week all my drip medications and dosages were changed. Since March, the drugs were too intense and too harsh. I have a very high pain threshold, but this was unreasonable. These drugs were making me sicker, far more than they were helping me. My cancer numbers were not even going down. Thanks to the boldness of my daughter, a whole new regimen of drugs and dosages were put into place.
All that to say, the pattern and timing of the new drugs, caused me to have to be longer at the infusion center and to have less interaction with my nurses. As a result, today I was able to get still with God. I didn't particularly like this experience, but it was beautiful. I know it gave me perspective and contrast.
So here’s what I experienced today. . .
God took me back to the day he showed me that I could see the auras of people. I rejected the fact that I could see peoples auras almost immediately. It made me feel very uncomfortable. I could see too much about a person. It was too heavy for me, especially if it was family. I remember I went over to a family member’s house a few days later. I tried to stay, I really did. I lasted less than five minutes inside. I even left my glasses there. I couldn’t even say one word. I just got in my car and drove home. I rejected this whole aura deal and shut it down. I just dismissed this whole notion that God wanted me to have this and blocked it out.
On a side note. . . I realize, I do have to focus to see these auras. God is giving me a choice.
It's been months since that chemo day, maybe years. Then today happened and God approached me on this issue of seeing auras. . .once again. He gave it to me for a reason. I know I need to accept this fact, embrace it, and count it ALL joy. It’s very uncomfortable. I know I can't spend every minute of the rest of my life seeing these images. Not everyone is yellow and orange and sprinkled in light. Most people are carrying heavy burdens, stress, tension, and sadness of some sort. Most are walking around with repressed trauma, guilt, shame, and countless secrets. I was only willing to entertain the idea of seeing light and happy colors. I was exposed to darkness, grays, and colors for which there are no names.
I was laying in my infusion chair, and it was impressed upon me to look at myself, but I could only see the bottom half of myself. I got up and unplugged myself to go into the bathroom to look into the mirror at myself, in totality. Surprisingly, I couldn't see anything of my aura in the mirror. You can’t see auras in a mirror. Good to know, I guess. Since this word “Aura” is quite new to my vocabulary, I chose to just move on from it and just accept this fact.
I could see the auras of the nurses and the patients. It was, at times, terrifying and enlightening. The nurses with a lot of confidence, self-reliance, positive attitudes and those who had answers for others, had light and beautiful auras. In contrast, the insecure nurses, always having questions and even questioning themselves had darker, less colorful auras. Apparently, auras can be halved, vertically or horizontally. I didn’t see one male aura that wasn’t halved. I have no idea what to make of that.
Then I started to scan the room of patients. There were surprisingly many light and colorful auras. I personally attribute this to choice. What are their options? They have to choose to make the best of the hand they were dealt…or, make the worst of it. Why be miserable when they can look around, appreciate things around them, and see the beauty in the life they have left on this planet? They were truly, sincerely, happy people. That was easy to see.
I still feel like I'm in such a quandary about this whole aura situation. I know it’s an obedience thing, but I don’t want this. I feel like a person’s aura is a personal burden that a person is working through. I don’t want to see people’s stuff. It feels so heavy. So personal. So oppressive. Why do I have this? What do I do with it anyway? I’m an empath. I get emotionally involved. Whoa, what fleshly, human, ungrateful statements those were!
Okay, enough. I’m going to choose to be brave. I can’t carry it all the time, but I will choose to walk into this, observe, and do whatever God puts on my heart to do with it. I’m not even sure what it is. I’d like to think this is just temporary and I’ll be from under this one day, while I’m still on this level. I’m going to choose to count it ALL joy and be thankful. I know I’ll see the beautiful life lesson He has for me in all of this…someday.