Barley in a Field Nineteen years ago I thought I was on top of the world.
I had recently moved into a new home, I had two young children and a wonderful wife. I was working in the family seafood business that was started by my father in the 1930s. I had just completed an MBA program. Life couldn’t be better.

I was in the best shape of my life, working hard and exercising regularly. That summer I bought a new bicycle and was riding regularly. Then one day while riding my bike I noticed my hands were stiff and aching. A few days later my knees began to ache and swell after a long ride. I thought it was the bicycle that needed to be adjusted, so I would change the seat position and handlebar position and continue riding.

November of that year my brother the doctor came home for the holidays and looked at my hands. He recommended I pay a visit to one of his old classmates who was a rheumatologist. The next week I went to the hospital and met with the doctor, who did a complete exam and blood analysis. When the results came back from the lab she called me back to her office for a follow-up. She told me I had a debilitating, incurable disease, scleroderma. She also said it was potentially fatal.
I became numb for a while.
I wanted to cry.
I wanted to laugh because I thought it was a joke.
I wanted to die.

The doctor asked all of the typical questions about recent medications, stress, etc.
I was in my early thirties, the picture of health. I had never been on any medication or caused other people stress. How could this be happening to me?

The doctor narrowed down the cause of the disease to an infection I got in my hand from a fish fin. The infection had been difficult to heal. I was used to handling all types of seafood and getting all kinds of cuts on my hands, but this had been different.
I had to take high doses of antibiotics and then antibiotic injections to cure the infection because the oral doses were ineffective.

My immune system went haywire; my white blood cells began attacking perfectly good cells. I ran the gamut of medications prescribed by the doctor, and nothing seemed to work. My health began to deteriorate rapidly as the scleroderma advanced.
I was sensitive to cold.
My whole body tightened as if someone was pulling on my skin.
I had trouble swallowing.
I lost weight.

Every joint in my body ached with arthritis.
Finally we decided to try blood cleansing.
It was an experimental procedure at that time and would take all summer, three times a week, four to six hours a day to complete.
Halfway through the treatment I didn’t want to continue. I couldn’t see any improvement.

It was difficult to continue when I couldn’t see any results and it was getting difficult to even get out of bed. Just to touch my feet to the carpet was painful. At that point, when I was ready to give up, my wife looked at me and said:
“Get up and get well. There is no other option. You have two young children depending on you to take care of them!”
I continued the treatment.
I stopped being angry at God and asked for healing.
I realized it was going to be a long and difficult journey but I was ready to do anything and everything I could to get well.

I started attending healing services at a small Catholic church.
Many people there seemed sicker than me so I began to pray for them. The priest there had to keep reminding me that God does not have a limited amount of healing power. It’s not like He has to save some of His powers from you to use on others.

You have to ask for TOTAL healing. Healing comes from God but you have to use the resources he provides. They are administered through doctors and strengthened by faith.

I was introduced to vegetable juicing by some friends I met through the National Scleroderma Foundation. They also encouraged me to eliminate processed foods, red meat and alcohol, all of which aggravate the symptoms of any auto-immune disease.

I completely changed my diet, my outlook on life, and my spiritual life.
I had always been a spiritual person who went to church on Sunday, but this test I was taking somehow brought me closer to God.

For me, “Harvest and Health” means that I have been in partial remission for over ten years and on a very limited amount of medication. I thank God every day for all the blessings He has given me, especially for my wife and my children.

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