I actually got up and got going to the gym, and spent almost 20 minutes using the equipment, which is a big accomplishment for me. I then came home and spent another 45 minutes doing hard labor on the pavement in front of our garage, attempting to tidy up so it didn’t look quite so disheveled. Then, on to more family dinner preparation stuff.
Even with my busy-ness, I had a lot of time to think about the message I had heard this weekend. About faith and the bible passages I had been reading even in the last day or so. I realized that I have pretty small faith when it comes to believing in true healing.
When I was little, my grandma told me a story of her grandmother, who was quite devout, one day took my grandma’s hands, and examined them, seeing warts all over. She covered the warts with her own hands, and prayed most fervently over my grandma. Being 6 years old at the time, my grandma paid it little attention, but a few days later, she happened to glance at her hands, and the warts were completely gone. Hearing this story, I wondered about it, and though I didn’t doubt that the story was true, I had serious doubts that such things happened in the modern world.
But really, what is a changed life? What is a mended heart, if not a healing? What was it when I was prayed over, having a massive, ongoing migraine that the next morning I woke up feeling better than I had in several days? I am slowly coming to understand that healing, my healing, is limited only by my own acceptance of it. That God has blessings to pour out, and that I have a willingness problem where this is concerned. I can be willing to embrace recovery all day, because you know what? I can be a part of that, it has personal responsibility and involves action.
Willingness to be healed, however, involves faith, pure and without question, as simple as a child’s. I don’t get to hang medals or ribbons on my efforts with this one. I don’t get a coin in a meeting for the faith that says God will deliver me from infirmities that I can presently do nothing about. The glory is His, and His alone.
Thank you Lord Jesus, for turning on the light in my heart, for pointing me to the next step. I pray for the willingness and courage to wait patiently, expectantly on my knees.
Much love and hugs. In His ever present grace.