Sunday, March 27, 2016
This morning my family and I sat together in church. It was a lovely start to our Easter Sunday. Until about halfway through the sermon.
The message revolved around specific examples of healing from throughout the church. Each story was followed by passionate "Amens" and clapping, which spurred him on to the next story of miraculous healing and prayers answered. After the second one, he took a moment to acknowledge the pain anyone who has dealt with loss in the past year might be feeling, but he only stayed there for a second before continuing to tell us the story of a baby who was deprived of oxygen at birth. The doctors thought he was probably dead, and the father (a doctor) stood beside his wife and fervently prayed while assuring her everything was ok. The next thing I knew a picture of a beautiful young boy was flashed on the screen and the preacher paused dramatically before he declared how powerful this couple's prayers were because this boy was perfectly healthy.
I had been uncomfortable the entire time, but this time my eyes filled with tears. I looked around at the thousands of people in the sanctuary; I looked at the videographer beside me and wondered how many others were hearing this message across the state. And of those thousands of people, how many of them will experience healing on this earth?
I was sitting beside my parents, who were in an operating room similar to the one of that couple's nineteen years ago. My parents were praying then, too, and yet my brothers didn't get healing. They have brain damage that radically changed the course of my parents' lives.
I'd like to speak to the ones who haven't experienced healing--the ones who were only spoken to for a moment this morning. I would like you to know that you are worth much more than that one moment. I would also like you to know that God's power isn't only evident in healing. In fact, I would say His power is most evident in suffering.
Jesus could have said the word and God would have sent twelve legions of angels to rescue him from the cruel fate of the crucifixion (Matthew 26:53). Just one word, and He could have avoided the flogging, the nailing, and the separation from God. It would have been so easy. Yet He stayed and suffered for our salvation.
I don't have any answers for why God heals some on earth and chooses to withhold healing until Heaven for others. It hurts my heart and I am so sorry. The only thing I know for sure, though, is that God loves us an incredible amount, and that love is evidenced by the cross. I know He doesn't watch His people suffer without suffering alongside us.
Most importantly, I know that just because He withholds healing DOES NOT mean He has abandoned you. My parents might not have seen healing for my brothers, but God has shown them He is still here in the form of so many people--their first Occupational Therapist who taught my mom the boys' disability didn't define them, the teacher who taught Benjamin he could do so much in spite of his CP, the friends who built a ramp so we could get into their home.
A key thing in that list are people. I think God leaves it to us, in many cases, to carry His hope. My friend at MC coined the term "fight-alongsiders." I love that word because it implies you are in the fight just as much as the person you're beside. Let's be fight-alongsiders with the ones who won't get healing on earth, even when it's sad and hard and nothing like we thought life would be. Have you ever wondered how people have hope even in the most hopeless of situations? It's carried to them by you, friends.
The God who was powerful enough to raise Jesus from the grave is the same God who lives inside us and gives us strength to keep going even when it feels like our prayers aren't being answered. These are the things I would have liked to tell those thousands of people today. Thank you for reading. It is a privilege to be one of your fight-alongsiders.