I obtained my Doctorate of Veterinary Medicine from Tuskegee University.  Helping sick animals is not that different from assisting humans at the initial stages. While in veterinary  school, I recall when we had to complete what is known as clinicals.  Clinicals allowed us to put into practice what we learned in the classroom.  

When we were presented with a case, we would talk to a client about the symptoms the patient (animal) was having, perform an examination, and based on the clinical signs, make a recommendation. We would then proceed with the various tests that may lead to a diagnosis. Based on the diagnosis, we would come up with a treatment plan. The prognosis depended upon the severity of the clinical signs and the diagnosis. This was the process that was taken for almost every patient and as a doctor, it became routine to me. 

But what happens when the doctor becomes the patient? What happens when the doctor starts exhibiting clinical signs?  What happens when the doctor has to tell their Doctor what their symptoms are? What happens when the Doctor is now being recommended a treatment plan, diagnosis, and prognosis? Whether I want to admit it or not, doctors usually are horrible patients as we are of the opinion that our education and experience are sufficient for self-diagnosis. 

What has been revealed to me over the last several years is not only can one be physically ill but spiritually ill.  I became severely ill spiritually and was on a rapid decline, but refused to acknowledge my own clinical signs, although “Dr. Jehovah-Rapha” was desperately waiting for me to just seek his help. 

My clinical signs were brokenness, I was lost, and hurting. Internally, I let these things fester for such a long time. I didn’t tell my Doctor (God) this for years, and because I didn’t, I became septic. When I finally went to talk (pray) to Him about being broken, lost, and hurt, I was diagnosed with a hardened heart and was spiritually dead (sepsis). 

When I availed myself to Him and heard my diagnosis I wasn’t even shocked. I knew something was wrong with me, but I didn’t want to come to terms with it. I began talking with Him about the treatment for my diagnosis. He said very calmly, you need to “Purge through Writing”. He didn’t call me doctor, He said Brandy. When my Doctor called me by my name, it was to get my attention. As a parent, I may tell my son to come here, baby. When he does not respond, I call him by his name. This prompts him to look in my direction. This is what the Doctor did by calling me Brandy, it demanded me to look in his direction. Even more so, it made our interaction more personal signifying the type of relationship we have. In His own special way, He let me know that my prognosis was dependent upon my willingness to rid my body of the septic toxins that made my heart harden and caused my spirit to be in a comatose state.  

After leaving my “Doctor’s office”, I studied the phrase “Purge through Writing.” Writing came naturally to me, I just had not written in years. But I had to study different definitions of the word “purge”, and what it meant to purge. The one that caught my eye was the phrase “purge oneself” defined by the Merriam-Webster dictionary as “to free oneself of something”. For nearly three years after my diagnosis, I went through several purification processes  essentially being cleansed to rid my spirit, soul, body, and mind of the septic toxins that had consumed my heart for such a long time.  

Because these toxins were deadly, I could no longer feel God’s presence. God still showed me time and time again that He was right there with me. I heard inspirational sermons every Sunday and Wednesday that normally would prompt me to action. But because of my hardened heart and I was spiritually dead internally, I still couldn’t feel Him no matter how/when He showed up in my life.

It didn’t matter that He had saved me from others as well as myself on so many occasions, I still couldn’t feel His presence.  The one who loved me unconditionally. Despite all my mess-ups, He still kept me, held me late at night when I thought I was going to lose my mind. The one who no matter what I went through, was still right there. He never left me nor forsaken me. After all, God had done for me, I still could not feel Him.  

This is just how spiritually sick I was. Just how dark, encapsulated, and hardened my heart had become. So, for nearly two years, my heart underwent the treatment of being purged which was prescribed by my Doctor.  A sort of spiritual surgery if you will, that resulted in a powerful cleanse that led to freeing my heart of everything that kept me from feeling God. 

Come along with me on the prognosis of “The of the Prescription Pad: Purge to Purpose ” as I release what led to the purification of my heart, and ultimately back to feeling God’s presence, and awakening from my spiritual coma. Releasing what I encountered then and now as I go through the continuous process of maintaining my wholeness and growing in God through writing.