As Told To
Pat Banta Kreml

2006 is a year I’ll never forget. Early in the year I began having physical problems. It started out like a really bad cold, but soon my lungs filled with congestion. I began to cough and hack up congestion off and on all night, every night, so I barely slept. When the symptoms persisted for weeks, I finally went to the walk in clinic. The doctor there gave me some antibiotics for the infection and an inhaler to help me breathe better. By then I’d lost weight and my appetite. Although the medicine and inhaler seemed to help, the congestion never really cleared up completely. Within a few months, I was back where I started.

By the summer I had worked sick for months with no sign of relief. One day my boss came to me and said, “You need to go see a doctor about that cough.” He recommended his doctor, so I made an appointment for a complete checkup. The diagnosis was pulmonary lung disease—though I never got a specific answer if it was asthma, bronchitis, or COPD. He started me on medications, then discovered I also had acid reflux disease.

By October/November things got really tough. I work at a citrus packing plant, and our busiest time of the year begins in fall. I worked long hours and went home exhausted, but instead of enjoying restful and rejuvenating sleep, I coughed, wheezed, and sat up just trying to catch my breath. Then my condition worsened. I woke up every hour on the hour coughing and struggling for air. I coughed so violently that my stomach, chest, and back muscles ached with every move, every breath. The pain and discomfort was so bad that I finally gave up my bed and caught what few hours of sleep I could in my recliner. That’s when I knew I was in serious trouble. This wasn’t just some passing illness. This was an all out attack of the devil.

I began to read my Bible, and confess what the Word said over my life. My workdays were long, and I never got more than a few hours of sleep at night so my strength began to drain. My appetite disappeared. I lost 30 pounds, and for a man who only weighed 160, that was another physical blow. Nevertheless, I still believed God’s promise that, “…by His stripes we (I) are (was) healed.” 1 Peter 2:24.

As my spirit grew stronger, my body grew weaker. By December of 2006 I could barely get up to go to work. Some days I left work at noon, too weak to stand. Deep, racking coughs convulsed my lungs. I lost all interest in food. Soup was about the only thing I could eat anymore and even that was tasteless. But through all of this I never once thought, “God, why are you doing this to me.” I never blamed Him; never believed it was His fault. Clearly this attack was the devil’s work. He was the one trying to kill me.

On December 29, 2006 my mother pleaded with me to get medical help, so I went to the hospital. They admitted me and administered medications and breathing treatments. Within an a few days I felt better and was sent home. It seemed my crisis had passed. My body was on the mend.

Barely two months later— in February of 2007— the symptoms returned. Once again I was up at night with uncontrollable coughing and shortness of breath. On the night of February 18, I took Theraflu and used my nebulizer three times. The next morning I could barely breathe. My chest felt like someone had wrapped an iron band around it and squeezed it so tight that my lungs could not expand to let the air in. I was literally suffocating. The more I struggled to breathe, the less air I took in. Fear surged through my mind. I called my sister, and she and my mother rushed me to the ER. The whole way there I wondered if I would live long enough to reach help.

I don’t know how long I waited to be seen, but I felt myself dying with each shallow, ragged breath. Finally I was taken to a cubical and put on IV meds and breathing treatments. Hours passed with no improvement. Then Pastor Jason came in and prayed for me. He literally spoke new lungs into my body. Once he prayed, I let it all go. I wasn’t worried. I knew I’d finally gotten the help I needed. Although I knew God had done a work in my body, the doctor could see no visible improvement.

“All we can do is put breathing tubes down your throat,” the doctor said.

So they put me to sleep, inserted the tube, and I woke up later in ICU. I was there for three days, and it was rough. I was hospitalized for five days in all. During that time Pastor Jeff and Pastor Jason (among others) visited me, prayed with me, and encouraged me in the Lord. When I was sent home, I just kept standing on the Word. I meditated on and confessed: Isaiah 53:5; 1 Peter 2:24; Galatians 3:13. Day by day I gained a new understanding of what it means to live by faith; to walk by faith. God didn’t say I was healed when I prayed IF I felt like it. He said I was healed when I prayed, so I believed Him.

Over the next few months I had some severe asthma attacks, but I continued to stand on the Word and seek God. In prayer I asked, “Lord is there something I’ve done to cause this to come on me? Should I have taken better care of myself nutritionally?” First, He brought to mind the negative words I had been confessing every day for a long time. Words like “I’m so tired. I’m just so tired.” Our spoken words have the power to affect our minds, get down in our spirits, and if they are contrary to the Word, we will find ourselves siding with them against God.

I took to heart all that God had shown me and began to correct my speech and my thinking. I made better choices in nutrition, and I fed on the Word daily. His Word became the anchor of my soul; my deep, firm foundation. My lungs improved daily, so much so that I was able to fulfill a desire of my heart and sing in the 2007 Christmas cantata at church.

That December God showed me another factor that had led to my physical issues: stress. I didn’t realize how stressed out I’d allowed myself to get, particularly at work. Stress can break down and damage the body’s immune system tremendously if left untreated. I made up my mind to walk in God’s peace and not allow stress to have place in my life. Once I had cast my cares on Him, I wasn’t worried anymore. Life became amazingly peaceful.

Since 2007, I have not had a major asthma attack. My appetite has returned and I get such wonderful, sweet sleep at night. I praise God for His Word and I stand on it and confess it daily. To anyone who is facing a battle with sickness and disease, I encourage you to find Bible verses that apply to your situation and speak them over your life. Be consistent in prayer and meditation on the Word. No matter how long you’ve been believing, do not abandon your faith. Healing is the children’s bread; it’s part of the atonement. The seed of the Word sown daily will bring a continual harvest of health in due time.

For me, God’s Word is a lifeline. In 2006 I was dying. My body slowly withered away from lack of food; my lungs—so congested and inflamed—struggled for each wisp of life-sustaining oxygen. But the God who breathed the very breath of life into the first man, Adam, reached down and breathed life into me. He healed my lungs, restored my strength, and gave me a chance to declare: Look what the Lord has done for me.