One of the many facets about our God with which I am very unfamiliar is his role as our Healer. I know God (or at least I say I do) as Redeemer, Justifier, Sanctifier, Lord, Savior, for these facets are well-preached and well-discussed in American evangelical circles, which is absolutely essential to our faith. But I am seeing some things on this side of the border that are surprising me about another facet of our Lord’s person: his power to heal.
Now, I’m not an expert on healing. In fact, being turned off to the idea by some of the extremes of “healing ministries” that romp around the world, wowing folks with miracles but bearing no real fruit, I’ve often avoided the subject. I know that Christ healed multitudes, I know miraculous healings took place in the Bible, and I’m confident in the biblical principle that God is a healer. But in regards to seeing it happen today, I’ve been a little sketchy until recently.
Maestra Ceci is one of the Physical Education teachers here at the school. I love watching her run around with the little kindergarteners, playing games all over the courtyard. She’s in the middle of doing a distance education program to get her bachelor’s degree, even though she’s forty-something years old. She takes the bus to school every day, because she can’t afford a car. Her unbeliever husband divorced her suddenly last spring, and her two college-age children are living lives away from God. Needless to say, her life isn’t easy.
But things didn’t get much easier in April when she found out that a cyst had developed on her womb and had become large enough that the doctor told her he had to operate and remove it soon, before it caused her any harm. I’m not a woman, but I imagine that this would not be a very fun operation. She began the process of scheduling the operation, putting the date sometime in May.
She told her immediate friends and through word of mouth, various groups of believers began to pray for her: a small group of women, a special speaker lady who came to the church in April prayed specifically for her, and a group of young people I was privileged to be a part of went to her house and prayed for her there.
She went back to see the doctor one last time before the operation, and after examining her, found no cyst whatsoever. Her womb was perfectly whole.
Crazily enough, almost the same thing happened with another lady in the congregation, a sweet-smiling woman named Anabel. Her womb became infected somehow, and an operation was necessary. The Body began to pray for her, and what do you know? No more infection. Perfectly whole womb.
And if that wasn’t enough, my friend Omar’s mom, a pistol of a woman named Betty, has had bone-eating cancer for about 2 years now. She’s undergone chemo, and wears a scarf every day to adorn her hairless head. I forget the exact kind of cancer she has, but it’s caused her bones to weaken to the point of being able to break with just a little pressure. But, after the constant prayers of the church, the usually serious doctor gleefully greeted her at her last checkup, telling her that something happened in her body to cause her bones to become much stronger now.
I’m not a real big fan of the whole idea of “faith-ing” your way into healing and wholeness. I think that idea can get really dangerous, treating God as the path to the good life and totally bypassing his person. But isn’t the other extreme of unbelief just as perilous? I think I’m beginning to learn a little from these fellow disciples: God loves to heal as an expression of his goodness to us, the end of which is a robust glorifying of his name, our Healer.
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
Monday, July 7, 2008
The Pit
A man is trapped.
Since he can remember, he has lived the entirety of his life in a deep, obscure Pit. The Pit's walls are shallower than that of circular well but steeper than a Saving Private Ryan bomb crater, and made up of solid, slippery rocks held together by gritty masonry.
The Pit is his home, but he knows that he is not of It. Having once been told, the man knows he belongs to the Land Above, but the longer he dwells in the Pit, the more it defines him. His eyes are accustomed to the dim, tired light. At times, Light - pure golden beams from a rich, holy country - shines down on him from above, but those occurances are rare, and often unpleasant for the man. He feels a strong desire for his homeland during these illuminations, and is motivated to escape from the pit in a burst of energy and strength. However, after beginning to climb, handholds and footholds become scarcer and less secure further up. He invariably slips, falling down to the unforgiving bottom, which causes him a great deal of pain and discouragement. The higher he climbs, the more painful and damaging the succeeding fall.
Sometimes, his Light-induced motivation to escape is so strong that he will attempt climbing several times in order to succeed, but he is never able to make it. Eventually, he becomes very discouraged and surrenders to the thought that he will never leave the Pit, so he might as well just make the best of it. Besides, the Pit wasn't all bad: in fact, it pleased him in many ways. It was cool and damp, and he never suffered from heat. Solitude was another plus; there was plenty of time for deep, introspective thought and philosophical writing.
But without fail, the Light returns, awakening the desire to climb out, and the cycle repeats again, with the same result. Each time it looks a little different, as if he would be able to do this time, but he always ends up falling.
One glorious day, Help arrived. Help was strong, full of life, and had a specific mission: to get the man out of the Pit and restore him to his homeland. He was so capable of helping the poor man that one giant reach from his arm would take a hold of the man and lift him out. Help's voice boomed out to the man, huddled and shivering at the Pit's bottom, and the Light from the Land Above brilliantly shone all around: Are you ready to come out and be free? The man, so full of happiness from seeing the Light shine so brightly, responded, YES! I'll be there quickly - just give me a boost, and I'll make it out. I'm so glad you've come! You're just what I needed to make it to the top! Help replied, No. I alone must do it, because I am the only one capable of placing you where you truly belong.
But I almost made it last time, replied the man. I just need a little help at the end - that's the tricky part. So the man began climbing once again. He made it pretty far, and was nearing the 3/4 mark of the Pit wall when he looked up to expect Help's intervention. Help was nowhere to be found, and the Light had faded. Unfazed, he clung to the Pit wall, shouting, Hey, look at how well I'm doing! I'm almost there! I don't need any Hel---, and then noisily fell down to the bottom once again.
Help's head appeared at the Pit's opening again, and the man begged forgiveness: I know, I should have let you do it. I'm such an idiot. I'll never make it out of here. I'm so stupid - I'll never be able to trust you, because I'm so-- Help interrupted him: The only way you will return to your homeland, to true life, is trusting in my ability to get you out of this Pit. You must submit to this and allow me to destroy every trace of self-confidence you have built up over the years. No amount of determination on your part will restore you to true life, the life you were made to have. The question is, will you actively trust me each day and remove your trust in yourself?
Since he can remember, he has lived the entirety of his life in a deep, obscure Pit. The Pit's walls are shallower than that of circular well but steeper than a Saving Private Ryan bomb crater, and made up of solid, slippery rocks held together by gritty masonry.
The Pit is his home, but he knows that he is not of It. Having once been told, the man knows he belongs to the Land Above, but the longer he dwells in the Pit, the more it defines him. His eyes are accustomed to the dim, tired light. At times, Light - pure golden beams from a rich, holy country - shines down on him from above, but those occurances are rare, and often unpleasant for the man. He feels a strong desire for his homeland during these illuminations, and is motivated to escape from the pit in a burst of energy and strength. However, after beginning to climb, handholds and footholds become scarcer and less secure further up. He invariably slips, falling down to the unforgiving bottom, which causes him a great deal of pain and discouragement. The higher he climbs, the more painful and damaging the succeeding fall.
Sometimes, his Light-induced motivation to escape is so strong that he will attempt climbing several times in order to succeed, but he is never able to make it. Eventually, he becomes very discouraged and surrenders to the thought that he will never leave the Pit, so he might as well just make the best of it. Besides, the Pit wasn't all bad: in fact, it pleased him in many ways. It was cool and damp, and he never suffered from heat. Solitude was another plus; there was plenty of time for deep, introspective thought and philosophical writing.
But without fail, the Light returns, awakening the desire to climb out, and the cycle repeats again, with the same result. Each time it looks a little different, as if he would be able to do this time, but he always ends up falling.
One glorious day, Help arrived. Help was strong, full of life, and had a specific mission: to get the man out of the Pit and restore him to his homeland. He was so capable of helping the poor man that one giant reach from his arm would take a hold of the man and lift him out. Help's voice boomed out to the man, huddled and shivering at the Pit's bottom, and the Light from the Land Above brilliantly shone all around: Are you ready to come out and be free? The man, so full of happiness from seeing the Light shine so brightly, responded, YES! I'll be there quickly - just give me a boost, and I'll make it out. I'm so glad you've come! You're just what I needed to make it to the top! Help replied, No. I alone must do it, because I am the only one capable of placing you where you truly belong.
But I almost made it last time, replied the man. I just need a little help at the end - that's the tricky part. So the man began climbing once again. He made it pretty far, and was nearing the 3/4 mark of the Pit wall when he looked up to expect Help's intervention. Help was nowhere to be found, and the Light had faded. Unfazed, he clung to the Pit wall, shouting, Hey, look at how well I'm doing! I'm almost there! I don't need any Hel---, and then noisily fell down to the bottom once again.
Help's head appeared at the Pit's opening again, and the man begged forgiveness: I know, I should have let you do it. I'm such an idiot. I'll never make it out of here. I'm so stupid - I'll never be able to trust you, because I'm so-- Help interrupted him: The only way you will return to your homeland, to true life, is trusting in my ability to get you out of this Pit. You must submit to this and allow me to destroy every trace of self-confidence you have built up over the years. No amount of determination on your part will restore you to true life, the life you were made to have. The question is, will you actively trust me each day and remove your trust in yourself?
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