Maeburl Tincher
In the mountains of western North Carolina, life has long been shaped by distance: the distance to town, to neighbors and especially to a doctor, when something went wrong.
For generations, mountain families learned to endure illness and trust God when help was far away.
By the time my children were born, hospitals were closer and better equipped than they had been for earlier generations. I was thankful that each of my babies arrived safely.
In the summer of 1971, our youngest son Gregory Wayne Tincher was born healthy and strong. Three weeks later, I began to feel weak.
At first, I thought it was simply the tiredness that comes with caring for a newborn, but the weakness continued to grow. Each day, it became harder to do ordinary tasks. My arms and legs felt heavy, and even simple chores required effort.
After several weeks, I realized this was more than ordinary fatigue. It felt as though life itself was slipping away.
One evening, I found that I could not even raise my hands above my head. I laid down on the bed and prayed, “Lord, heal me or take me out of here.” As the night progressed, my condition worsened. Around 4 a.m., I sensed a presence entering the room. I did not see anything with my eyes, but I knew the Lord was nearby. I thought He had come to get me – but then, the sound of energy – pleasant and powerful – covered me from head-to-toe, just as a deep peace settled in.
The heaviness left my body and suddenly, I became aware that I was suspended above the bed.
There was no fear: only peace. Time seemed to lose its meaning – though later I estimated that nearly two hours had passed. Gradually, I felt myself returning and when I opened my eyes, I knew something had changed.
Like the man in Scripture whom Jesus told to take up his bed and walk, I rose from mine feeling strong and alive. The weakness that felt like it was taking my life was completely gone.
Later, doctors determined that my thyroid had been working 14 times harder than normal following a near-complete thyroidectomy. The medications were adjusted accordingly, but my healing had already taken place.
I will be 90 years old in one week and I have never again felt that kind of exhaustion.
For a brief time in the summer of 1971, I hovered between this world and the next. Instead of leaving, I was restored and returned to live in the blessing of watching my children grow.
Maeburl Tincher writes a monthly column for The Graham Star. She is a native of the Jutts Creek community.