JOURNEY FROM DEATH TO LIFE

By Vancy Elliott

“She looks like she’s dead. Is she dying?” I vaguely heard someone ask. Then another voice replied, “No. Not yet. But she won’t be here long; she’ll go anytime.” This ominous dialogue pierced the darkness that lay like a shroud over my partially conscious mind, but I couldn’t make my body respond. As this grim death sentence pierced my consciousness, I wanted to scream out to those two unsuspecting women who had come into my hospital room, “I’m not going to die,” but no words came out.

Lying there in the Shattuck hospital, I’m sure it did indeed look like I was dying. In fact the medical profession gave me very little hope of ever recovering. As I drew near to death’s door, the only thing that kept me from going on through was my determination to live, and the knowledge that I was redeemed from the curse. So I hung on!

Delmer and I had been married in August of 1960, and after our wedding we moved to the farm east of Guymon. There I took care of Mom Elliott’s large garden and we re-painted the house. Both of these activities adversely affected my allergies and a persistent strep throat condition that had refused to go away for the past two years.

From 1958 through the spring of 1960 I attended OPSU, taking courses in order to get a teaching degree. I was working at a job part time, as well as helping out quite a bit in our church; because I was so busy, I didn’t rest enough, and totally ignored my health. God has natural laws we must obey as well as spiritual laws; unfortunately when we violate these laws, we open the door to the devil and he will kill us if we allow him to. That was exactly what he tried to do to me. During those school years I began to have strep throat on and off. I would go to the doctor at my parent’s insistence, and even though he would prescribe antibiotics, after their effects wore off the condition would always come back.

So early in 1961 I began to feel dreadfully ill. A specialist in OKC and Shattuck said I had the worst case of strep throat and enlarged heart they had seen in some time. Every joint in my body had become inflamed and my temperature hovered at a dangerously high level. I experienced nausea so bad that I couldn’t eat or keep food down. But what I found most alarming were the heart symptoms. My heart would race, then almost stop, skip beats, and then shudder in my chest. When this happened it would take my breath away and fear would wash over me. I was finally admitted to the Shattuck hospital where I had become unconscious for a period of time.

After fully regaining consciousness on the fateful day I overheard that conversation between the cleaning lady and the nurse, I begged Delmer and Mother to take me home. So they moved me to the hospital in Guymon

Since Delmer and I were just newly married, we didn’t have any health insurance, so the bills were mounting. The Guymon area was in the middle of a ten-year drought, which meant we had very little farm income, so Delmer was working for my dad building pipelines. It was a very difficult time because he was working twelve to fourteen hours a day, but still he found time to write healing scriptures for me on index cards.

Looking back, I don’t remember my Pentecostal church teaching or preaching much about healing, though we did pray for the sick. But in 1959, Rev. Kenneth E. Hagin held a joint revival with two churches in Guymon and our church was one of the sponsors. Delmer and I were faithful to attend all the services, and we wound up purchasing the one book Rev. Hagin had with him: “Redeemed from the Curse of the Law.” Delmer read and studied that book over and over. To this day I believe I am alive because he put the scriptures from that little book in his spirit.

So during that critical time in my life Delmer taught me those scriptures and prayed for me. During every waking moment I read all the verses aloud from the index cards, and as those verses came alive in my spirit I started saying, “I’m healed; I will live!”

One day our Pastor came to see me. I know he loved the Lord and was a student of the word, but he didn’t have light on the subject of healing. He patted my hand and said, “Vancy, You’ll be with Jesus soon and be out of this misery.” After he left I cried for a while in discouragement. But then I determinedly picked up my scriptures, declaring once again, “I will live and not die; I’m redeemed from sickness and death.” However, after hearing a few more negative words from other people who came by, I asked my doctor to post a “No Visitors” sign on my door.

Over the weeks and months that followed I continued to speak, pray, cry, and praise my healing verses aloud. Delmer was determined that I was going to be healed too, and that helped a lot, especially through the tough times when I was in terrible pain twenty-four hours a day. My body was full of tubes and needles, but I wouldn’t give up. Thank God for the baptism of the Holy Spirit that I had received when I was twelve years old. When I wasn’t confessing my scriptures, I prayed in tongues, talking to my Father.

During that time, sadly, one of our family friends, who also had rheumatic fever, died. She had been in a room just across the hall from me so you can imagine the thoughts the devil tormented me with. But our doctor, knowing I would be sad and upset, came in and spoke words that were more encouraging to me than some that had been offered by my Christian friends, even though at the time my doctor wasn’t a Christian.

He said, “Vancy, don’t give up. Fight this with all your might and use all your willpower to live.” After he left, I talked to my Heavenly Father about my situation and decided I wanted to go home and trust God. Since no one would listen to me I proceeded to take one of my IVs out of my arm, and then called the nurse. (I wouldn’t advise anyone to do this!) Sure enough, the nurses and doctor came running.

I was told I couldn’t go home because I wouldn’t be able to eat and keep the food down and would probably die as a result. I informed them I was going home anyway, and that I would be able to eat. They decided to put a hospital bed at my Mother’s home and let me go there on a trial basis, but warned that if I couldn’t eat, then I would have to come back to the hospital.

Eating did prove to be a major challenge. Mother fed me something bland and I would have to hold my fingers to my lips so the food wouldn’t come back out my mouth. Then I kept swallowing until the bite stayed down. It took a long time, but with God’s help, I did it.

During that time my brother brought his future wife to meet me. She came into the room, took one look at me and ran out crying. She thought I was dead. And in the natural I certainly looked and smelled like I was dying. Sickness has to have originated from Satan because it is so ghastly to behold and putrid smelling as well.

Not long afterward Delmer and I had a serious talk. He had spent time with God and felt I should go home to the farm and just believe God. He said, “We’ve done everything our parents and the doctors have advised us to do, and we have seen very little improvement in your health. Would you be willing to do home and do what God says to do?” I didn’t hesitate a minute. I exclaimed, “Let’s go!”

At home my day started at the crack of dawn. Delmer fed me before he left for work at 5 o’clock in the morning, and then he prayed and spoke the word to me. The rest of the day I spent alone with God. Mother came at noon and five in the evening to see about me because Delmer always had to work such long hours. However, no matter how late he came home he still took care of me physically, read bible verses and Rev. Hagin’s book to me, and prayed in the Spirit for a while. Some of the pertinent scriptures he read from Brother Hagin’s book were from Deuteronomy 28:15, 58, 61, where all the curses of the law are listed, including the fact that every sickness and every plague is a part of the curse. Then he would finish with the triumphant statement in Galatians 3:13, “Christ hath redeemed us from the curse of the law, being made a curse for us; for it is written, Cursed is every one that hangeth on a tree.”

One night I had a glorious dream of heaven. It was indescribably beautiful and remarkably peaceful; immediately I noticed I had no pain and the joy I felt was amazing. What a wonderful relief! A few days after I experienced that marvelous dream I realized I no longer had a fear of dying. My shuddering, shaking heart no longer scared me, which was a vital part of my journey, because fear always drives out faith. And I certainly needed a liberal supply of faith to overcome the death that was trying to fasten itself on my body.

One morning while I was praying, I decided, live or die, I was getting out of bed. The doctors had warned that any exertion could cause my heart to stop. But now I threw all caution to the wind and started the laborious task of getting up. Because I had been in bed for several months it took me a while because I was so weak. I took it in stages, resting after a few steps until finally I was up and leaning back on the wall praising God.

Elated at my progress, I decided to go and wash the dishes to surprise Delmer and Mother. I made it slowly to the kitchen, holding on to the furniture all the way. And yes, my heart was doing all sorts of things, but I kept quoting scriptures and praising God for my healing. I propped myself against the sink and washed the dishes, then made it back to the living room to recline, out of breath, weak, and shaking, but happy and at peace!

I was resting and praising God when Mother came in and saw me in the chair. I thought she was going to faint. Because of the doctor’s warning she was alarmed, but I told her that I would not go back to bed until bedtime from then on. The bible said I was healed and bless God I was going to act healed.

Little by little as I acted on God’s word I began to receive healing in my body. Because I had become addicted to some of the many medications I was taking (that’s another story), it took about a year to overcome that hurdle with God’s help, but before long I was able to get off all my medications.

People often ask me about my health today. Since that time in 1961 I have had a number of trials, but when I work God’s word, it works. I continue daily to confess some of my healing scriptures aloud, and keep on thanking God for my health and healing.

I have a lot to be thankful for. Now I have a church family who prays and believes with us so we are no longer standing alone. I certainly love and appreciate the teachings of Rev. Kenneth E. Hagin that started me on the path to health. Most of all I thank God for the atoning work of Jesus and for His life-giving word. Also I am forever grateful to my husband who wouldn’t let me give up; who was my faithful companion, my support, and my teacher, ever encouraging me along on that arduous journey from death’s door to life’s miracle.