BREAKING PROTOCOL

~Our Journey of Sunflowers and Rainbows~

By: Angie Jennings

Having been raised to attend Church every time the doors were opened, it was second nature to me to begin getting dressed for our Sunday night service even though there was a storm brewing outside. Having been a teen in the 80’s it was also second nature to me to plug in my curling iron and get those layers feathered out on my hair….even though there was a storm brewing outside. What happened next is a bit debatable; however, I saw a sharp flash of light, heard a loud boom of thunder, and smacked my head with my curling iron all at the same time.

Though I only remember the incident and going to Church to tell the tale, Jeffrey speaks of seeing me on the floor and helping me back to my feet. Being young, we didn’t think of going to the hospital or calling an ambulance because everything seemed oddly fine. Within a couple months while visiting relatives, I woke up in the night feeling as though I was dying, experiencing extreme confusion, a massive headache, severe nausea and weakness, and wearing a wet gown. Evidently, my husband woke up to hearing me breathe sharply through my mouth and watching my body convulse. Not knowing what to do, he tried slapping my cheek and then splashing water on my face to wake me up. My cousin and husband helped me to the bathroom where I promptly got very sick. After they helped me back into bed, I slept the rest of the night waking up to a very black tongue. Though we all thought this was weird, we assumed I had some crazy virus.

It was not a crazy virus. About a month or so later while Rachel was taking her nap, I also decided to take one. I woke up hearing my six-month-old crying and began to walk to her room. I vaguely remember the feeling of falling and then I woke up in my bed, turning my head into blood. I was scared and knew I needed help, so I started down the hall toward the living room to grab the phone and call my Mom. That short hallway seemed endless as I bumped back and forth on the walls in dizziness. Mom arrived and shortly after so did Jeff. Jeff took me to the ER to be checked out. Stitches later over my eyebrow, a neurology appointment, an MRI, blood tests, and an EEG all confirmed that I was suffering from an idiopathic seizure disorder. There was no “reason” for me to be experiencing this other than possibly the lightning incident.

Nevertheless, I had to begin taking anticonvulsant medications to stop these grand mal seizures from happening. The medications successfully stopped the seizures; however, I was still experiencing something called “aphasia” or “word salad” when for a few seconds I could not understand what was being spoken to me, could not speak, and was jumbled in confusion. These episodes came out of the blue, without warning, and left me depressed. Years of neurology visits as well as switching medications, and even adding new ones could not stop the bouts of aphasia.

Fast forward about thirty years. I had learned to “live” with aphasia. I hated it. It limited me. I loved to talk. I loved to listen. I enjoyed teaching, preaching, and leading Praise and Worship. All of these things I felt God had truly gifted me to do were thrown into a state of anxiety and panic, never knowing when aphasia would surface. Sometimes I would be in the middle of ordering something from the McDonald’s drive-through and be forced to leave the line because I could not finish making my order. Other times I would be forced to stop mid-sentence because I truly could not make out words. The worst was when it happened during Praise and Worship. Fortunately, my team knew what was happening and kept singing. Then it began to affect me reading the chord charts as I played the keyboard. It was as though the words on the paper just jumbled themselves and I had to literally take my hands off the keyboard because I was playing the wrong chords.

Oddly enough, though this was a regular occurrence, when we all became sick with Covid, aphasia didn’t happen. Slowly after I recovered from the physical effects of Covid and greatly grieving the loss of Rachel, the bouts of aphasia began to come back. I was despondent. I was desperate. I really began to “accept” that this was as good as it was going to get.

The last weekend of April 2023, we traveled to the Orlando area for the baby shower held for our son and daughter-in-love’s baby girl, Selah Grace. The shower was held on a Saturday and we would obviously attend Church the next morning with Ryan and Samantha, but Jeff threw me a curveball. He wanted to visit a Church he had been reading about. I expressed to him how I felt it would be rude to not attend Ryan and Samantha’s Church with them since we were there but my husband would not relent. In fact, he got my son on board! So, Sunday, April 30, 2023, I submitted and we went to Jesus Image Church.

As a Praise and Worship Leader I was happy to possibly learn some new songs but by the time we dropped our granddaughter off in Childrens Church and walked back over to the main building, Praise and Worship was almost over. The Pastor of the Church had missed his flight the night before and would be preaching via zoom. I was flabbergasted! How could they not have someone to fill the pulpit in a Church of this size? I mentally checked out. I was on strike. I didn’t want to be there. I didn’t get to learn any new songs. Now we were going to sit in a sanctuary watching a zoom sermon. Honestly, I got out my cellphone and started scrolling through social media, email, shopping, you name it and then my ears perked when the Pastor said, “there is life in the Blood.” As though I had a good angel on one shoulder and a bad angel on the other that were arguing, my thoughts went like this.

“No life is not in the blood. Life is in the heart. I watched my daughter die and her life left when her heart stopped.” “No actually life is in the brain.” “Well what does the brain do?” “It tells the heart to pump.” “What does it tell the heart to pump?” “Blood. Fine. There is life in the Blood.” My internal argument had been resolved.

Then Ryan texted “I’m not feeling it. Let’s leave.” Believe it or not, Jeff was in agreement with leaving early. They were not disagreeing with what was being said but were tired from the previous day and ready to get on the road. This, however, was a service I was meant to be in and when I heard something mentioned about prayer for healing, I texted them both that I wanted to stay. So as not to be too obvious, my guys had gotten up separately to leave and then ended up walking back in right before it was time to come forward by rows to take communion. As I began walking toward the communion elements, I had a split-second flashback of being outside my body and seeing myself come out of a grand mal seizure. I literally heard a gentle male voice in my right ear ask “Are you ready to tell it goodby?” Warm wet tears began flowing uncontrollably from my eyes. Then another split-second flashback of watching happened and I saw myself in a group of people with a confused look on my face. I instantly knew I was seeing myself experience aphasia. A second time the gentle male voice asked “Are you ready to tell it goodbye?” I was almost to the bread element of the communion when a third flashback came where I saw myself leading Praise and Worship but suddenly pulling my hands up from the keyboard because I was experiencing aphasia. The gentle male voice asked again “Are you ready to tell it goodbye?”

Unable to stop the tears from flowing, I reached for the bread when the gentle male voice instructed me “Look into the crowd.” As I slowly turned my head to look into the congregation I wondered if anyone knew I was hearing a voice. But then I saw her. One woman was standing with her hands raised and tears flowing down her face. Immediately that gentle male voice said, “See, I’m doing things in other people too, not just you.” I picked up my cup of grape juice and walked to the end of our family’s seating area. My husband instructed us on partaking the communion but didn’t look at me until after we finished when he asked “What’s wrong with your face?” He then clumsily attempted to wipe the tears from under my eyes and the running mascara.

I estimate that at least 45 minutes passed from then until we made a restroom stop, went through security to retrieve our granddaughter, and got into the van. It was then that I had to say something. I told Jeff about what had transpired during the communion service. He listened intently and simply said “Angela, I believe you had a true experience.”

That night I contacted my Mom and my Aunt Judy who had experienced a supernatural healing. I was loaded up with Scriptures and prayed for. That night I knew something was different. I wanted to experience God’s Word for myself and could not get past Genesis 1:1. My understanding was multidimensional! Prior to that April 30, 2023 service where I truly believe Jesus spoke to me, I had been experiencing bouts of aphasia regularly, even as much as three times a week. After that day when Jesus asked me “Are you ready to tell it goodbye?” the bouts abruptly stopped. This photo was taken after we left the service.