Lord, Why Me?

 “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.”

—2 Corinthians 12:9

"I don't want to go home defeated."

It was not a prayer. It was a scream from a breaking heart, and I let it out on my knees, drowning in tears. August brought a toothache that settled into my jaw like a tenant who refused to leave. Every night I pressed my palm to my swollen cheek and cried without sound, until I could no longer chew rice. I asked God when it would end.

In September, malaria moved through me like weather, and chickenpox bloomed across my skin. "This will pass," I whispered, and it did. But only for two days. Then came a mark, so small I dismissed it. I should not have. Slowly, it devoured me. My whole body burned from the inside, as if a lamp had been lit beneath my skin. At noon even the air hurt, and one second of sunlight fell on me like acid.

In the mirror, I did not know the woman looking back. All my life, my skin was the one thing I guarded, and in a single snap it was gone. I went to the hospital, I waited for hope. Instead the doctor said, "It will take one to two months to heal. "You are not allowed to interact with people." My last bit of hope crumbled. That night I locked my door, fell to the floor, and something in me broke. "Lord, why me?" My voice shattered.

"I have been faithful to Your ministry. I gave You my youth, my time, my heart. Why this pain?"

The silence afterward was the loneliest I have ever known. With trembling hands, I called my partner. We prayed, both of us weeping. "I want to go home," I told her. "I am defeated."

Her voice did not shake. "Let's go back. Let's finish this as missionary partners."

In a season when no arms could reach me, her words held my soul. Then, slowly and mercifully, my body began to heal. And on the first morning I felt strong enough, I did what I had longed to do for weeks—house to house visitation. My hands trembled at the first gate. I was not fully healed, and I knew it. Every mark on my skin whispered the same question: What if they turn me away?

I knocked anyway.

The door opened, and a smile met me. Every home welcomed me. The fear I had carried like a stone quietly let go. Today, I am still recovering. Some days the pain still visits. But I cling to Matthew 7:7: “Ask, and it shall be given to you; seek, and you will find; knock, and it will be opened to you.” In that painful season, I learned that even when I felt most unlovable, I was never unloved.

Name: Bebei Jane Torremocha | 66th Batch | 1000MM

Mission Field: San Pablo, Jabonga, Agusan Del Norte