Remarks Which Do Not Heal

When the topic of healing comes up, inevitably I hear of hearts hurt by amazingly insensitive words. If you or someone you love has been dumped-on in this way, would you please allow me to humbly and sincerely ask your forgiveness on behalf of those who hurt you? They may have been immature, arrogant, untaught or merely thoughtless, but I think their words have left some pretty deep scars in a lot of people. And those scars have not gone away. Please forgive us in the name of Jesus.

Here’s my short list of Words Which Do Not Heal, working our way down:

6. You haven’t received your healing because you don’t: speak in tongues, read your Bible or pray enough, go to church, say a sufficient number of faith confessions, go to the right church, study a particular teaching, go to a really anointed faith healer (as opposed, of course, to your own pastor who clearly has no anointing whatsoever or you would have gotten it by now) – OR ANY OTHER FORMULA.

Healing is based on relationship, you and your Healer are unique persons. What worked for Aunt Suzy may leave you cold. It’s like bringing a sex manual to bed with your spouse – not that any of us can’t afford to learn something new once in a while, but the vast majority of time will be from your heart, not following step by step diagrams.

5. You are sick (or your husband died, or you had a miscarriage) because you are in sin.

Although I do believe sickness arises from the general presence of sin in a fallen world, unfortunately some people leap with the speed of light from that premise, to speculating as to what sin YOU must have committed to cause THIS illness. This is devastatingly hurtful, inappropriate, and quite frankly, none of my business to comment on another person’s walk with God.

4. God only heals those who are good enough.

Well, then we are in deep tabouli, because I personally know dozens of incredibly Godly saints who suffer from illness. So do you. We must be talking about a league of super-sanctification here that is pretty much out of reach for the rest of us normal folks who yell at our kids once in a while. Fortunately, wrong.

3. God will heal you if you stop taking your medicine.

This is just plain irresponsible. I’ve heard of mature individuals who felt specifically led to not pursue treatment. But God told them so directly, not their neighbor’s cousin’s hairdresser, and they felt a deep assurance and peace in that course of action, not motivated by fear of surgery or high medical bills. Unless God rents a skywriter to instruct you otherwise, please, follow whatever treatments you and your medical providers agree are best for you.

(And, speaking as a professional, it’s always a great idea to check with your health plan to see what’s covered – don’t assume.)

2. God took your (child, wife, brother) because He needed another flower in His garden (singer for His choir, player for His team, etc.)

Well, God, wouldja please go grab a daisy somewhere else!! This reduces the Almighty to the level of the greedy neighbor (in Nathan’s confrontive tale to David regarding Bathsheba) who snatches the poor man’s only sheep instead of taking from his own ample herd. At bare minimum, find a more gracefully-worded way to say, “I have no idea why this happened.”

And finally, drum roll please as we scrape the very bottom of the below-the-belt barrel . . .

1. You didn’t get healed because you didn’t have enough faith.

Can I just say, “Wrong!” To each has been given a measure of faith – presumably enough for what God knew we would face. I believe each person has plenty of faith.

Now, even a casual reading of the Gospels will convince you that faith is important to healing. It’s mentioned or implied in something like 19 out of 24 healing accounts (numbers off the top of my head, not strictly accurate.) But it’s not something we have to strive for, whip up, or try to climb another notch on the faith ladder to get our healing.

Mustard seed, people, not ostrich egg.

The clincher is, I don’t see Jesus or the apostles ever rebuking a suffering individual for not having faith. However, I do see him rebuking those attempting to minister healing , and of course an entire community is noted because the Son of God himself couldn’t get past the damper their unbelief put on his anointing.

But these are very different from blaming an individual for not receiving healing due to insufficient faith. Not Biblical. Not kind. Not true.


Well, did I manage to quote your personal not-so-favorite? Perhaps you would like to add to this list. I think it’s important to clear the table by stating some of the things I do not believe about healing – nor do you.

So what do I see as causes for people not receiving healing?

I’ll write that in a future blog . . .

Super Soper

SoperDSmetrodistrictnewlycometoshowus (a silly subtitle I couldn't resist, to be sung to the tune of Mary Poppins' favorite word)

Yesterday in chapel, we had a real treat – John Soper spoke. He got a cheerleader intro from Bob ‘n crew who walked in shouting “Gimme an S – O – P – E – R!” I love it when exec-types loosen up a bit. I first met John a few months ago when I got to sit next to him at a Board meet-n-mingle, and learned he’d lived in Australia. My family had just watched The Dish and so we chatted about Australian culture. He commented how very relationship-oriented things are. I’m thinking we could use more of that here in the U.S.

Yesterday, Soper challenged us with Joshua’s prayer for the sun to stand still, and how unusual of a prayer that was, and is. He also stirred our faith with some humdinger stories about pioneer missionary John G. Paton. The cool thing is, I heard these stories before – when I was 3! Soper says this is because Child Evangelism Fellowship cared enough to put them in children’s ministry materials. I heard the stories on records (you know, the ancient spinning dinner plate thingeys) and can still feel the hair on my arms stand up just thinking about those cannibals-turned-Christians telling Paton years later how they saw armed men on his roof. CEF has flashcards, slightly less exciting, but if you don’t want to wait until they restock this item in 2008, check out John G. Paton’s autobiography on Amazon . And if you know anyone who makes audio programs, these are stories worth re-telling.

Anyhow, my point: it occurred to me this morning - OK, I know this seems really obvious, but it JUST occurred to me this morning, that Joshua’s prayer is very similar to Mark 11:23-24. It’s always nice when you find parallel OT/NT passages.

Speak to the sun, speak to the mountain – pretty similar, don’t you think?

It says Joshua uttered this prayer in the presence of all Israel – that’s the part that took faith, if you ask me.

So what I'm about to pray should be quite minor by comparison: I speak to my father’s heart in the name of Jesus and command it to resume beating normally, and the blood to flow through the upper right ventricle in the healthy way God designed. In a few minutes as the doctor jolts his heart to correct arrhythmia, I command his heart (in complete cooperation with my father’s own desires) to receive the treatment and to function normally thereafter. Thank you, Father. In Jesus’ name, be it so.

Thanks, John Soper, for encouraging my own heart.

Jesus Calms the Storm

Mark 4:35-41


Jesus said, “Let us go over to the other side.” The will of God, expressed to the friends He loved. In other words, God clearly told them it was not His will that they drown in the middle of the lake.

A furious squall came up. The storm showed every sign of preventing them from reaching the other side, God’s stated purpose.

God is not split against Himself. Jesus did only what He saw the Father doing.

Jesus rebuked the wind, so we know God did not send it. And the wind died down and it was completely calm.

Then Jesus turned to us, His disciples, His Church, down through the centuries, and said, “Why are you so afraid? Do you still have no faith?”

You have a storm today. I know you do because I have one too.

It’s important that you know who sent your storm, because it dictates your response.

If God sent your storm, it is perfectly logical to humble oneself before the Almighty and work it through with Him. Don't forfeit the grace He's standing by to give you. Expect Him to come through for you.

If your storm was not sent by God, it is equally logical to rebuke it, command it to leave, to enforce the will of your Father against all comers.

It would make sense to utilize every means at your disposal, both natural and supernatural, to fight this thing, in complete cooperation with and submission to your God. Expect the storm to calm as a result of your words.

If your Father told you to go to the other side, someone else is trying to prevent your fulfillment of your Father’s purpose – and how dare they!?

We Are At War

The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full. - John 10:10

We and the world, my children, will always be at war. Retreat is impossible. Arm yourselves.
– Leif Enger

If healing is a part of salvation, why does it often seem so hard to receive?

The plot is so familiar it smacks of cliché. Someone is supposed to inherit a fortune . . . but something always goes wrong. The stories tell of an evil uncle or conniving cousin (why do authors consistently make the villain a relative, I wonder?!), a bad guy working overtime to see to it that the will of the benevolent deceased is not carried out. The messenger gets ambushed before news of the inheritance is delivered, and our hero experiences years of hardship, never knowing wealth is his. Or if he does find out, a wicked attorney eviscerates the will in court, convincing jurors that only a token gift was intended – or perhaps only well wishes and no financial assistance at all.

In Sense and Sensibility, John visits his father’s deathbed and learns that the law requires everything be left to him and only a small sum to his stepmother and sisters. “Hardly enough to live on,” his father breathes, “You must help them, John. Promise me!”

Later, tightfisted Fanny persuades John not to give a red cent to his sisters. First she whittles down the amount he originally intends, from 3000 pounds to 1500, then 100 pounds annually, to 20 pounds now and then, and finally clinches with, “Although, to say the truth, I’m convinced within myself that your father had no idea of you giving them money.”

Lately I’ve spent some time in John Eldredge’s book
Waking the Dead, which I think may be his best yet (but I haven’t read them all). Chapter One, titled “Arm Yourselves,” is headed by the two quotes I have used above. This one bears repeating often:

The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full. - John 10:10

Eldredge writes,

Have you ever wondered why Jesus married those two statements? . . . he says them in one breath. And he has his reasons. By all means, God intends life for you. But right now that life is opposed. It doesn’t just roll in on a tray. . . . Yes, the offer is life, but you’re going to have to fight for it because there’s an Enemy in your life with a different agenda. . . We are at war.

How I’ve missed this for so long is a mystery to me. Maybe I’ve overlooked it; maybe I’ve chosen not to see. . . .

Where did you think all this opposition was coming from?

Where indeed.

Did we think that a woman having a breast cut off is what Jesus meant by “life more abundant”?

Did we think that a child who dies at the age of 6 is part of God’s plan to “prosper and not to harm us”?

As Fanny tries to convince John, did the Father really intend for His children to only have a visit now and then, rather than any practical help?

The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy;
I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full. John 10:10

If what you believe God has promised you in His Word regarding healing is not what you see actually occurring in your life and the lives of those you love, welcome to the battle.

Remembering Those Who've Left Shadowlands

I always knew there was no Santa Claus, but when I was about eleven, I cried, filled with unspeakable yearning for Reepicheep to be real. I loved all the Narnia Chronicles, but the ending of Dawn Treader especially filled me with longing, with its thinly veiled references to the risen Savior meeting the disciples on the beach, and its story of the gallant mouse finding the country of his dreams. So real, yet so far. Too old to allow myself to live in a fantasy world, too young to realize just how grounded in reality Lewis’ fantasy is.

My 9-year old just read the Chronicles, alone. I felt sad because I had always thought we would read them together, but he read them for school, so the best I got was a few pages with him at bedtime. But with school out, I put the brakes on the locomotive and forbad him to finish the Last Battle without me. I’m so glad I did that. We shared those last few sweet pages where the children explore Aslan’s Country and realize that the Narnia and England they knew are merely Shadowlands.

It was not until the very last page that my son realized the children had died in the train wreck, and this is why they are allowed to return to Narnia for good. I wondered how he would react. The Last Battle was never my favorite Chronicle. Too much like the Tribulation pictured in the book of Revelation. But I loved all the rest, once safely past the Calormenes and deceitful Ape. I rejoiced with Lucy in the wonder of permament residence in Narnia. My son responded differently, feeling grief for the children’s death on this side. And to me now as an adult, that feels very right as well.

On the day we finished the book, I had just learned of yet another, one of so many among friends, family, team players in the Body who have gone through the stable door by means of cancer. Thinking of this, I choked up as I read (fortunately my son never seems to mind).

No discussion of healing is complete without remembering those who have left Shadowlands.

I remember Mitch’s father who went home due to prostate cancer. A few years later, his uncle, same cause. He dances for Jesus now and no doubt teases angels with his jokes. I remember a beloved aunt, taken out at my age by breast cancer. A greatly respected church elder who entered heaven by pulling a trigger – suffering some combination of medical and spiritual oppression. I look forward to hugging him again one day. I remember aunts and uncles and friends in nursing homes, unable to defend themselves from even small indignities like having all one’s socks stolen, or explain to their families how a bruise got there. I remember the babies of loved ones, babies who never saw the light, and young children snatched away. I remember a lady who seemed so grumpy, always focused on making everyone keep silly rules. One day she privately shared her sorrow – miscarriages and a stillbirth on the mission field, the terrible burden of never giving her husband a son. Years later, she received a vision of a tall young man standing before her. The pain of her story took my breath away. She’ll only hold him when she, too, leaves Shadowlands. But she is not barren; she is a mother of children. In that I rejoice.

I remember my Grandmother, bending over to loosen her waist-length hair in the firelight. She died at 94, a good, full, sweet life, but I’m sad it ended in the hospital, her body painfully bloated. And my Grandma, whom Mom and God revived twice on her deathbed before she accepted Jesus near the last.

I’ve seen a lot of death certificates. Never has one stated “Cause of Death” as “Felt it was time to go, just fell asleep.” Always sickness. We have forgotten how to die without the aid of sickness. It was not always so. I’ve heard stories of people who knew it was time, gathered their family, said goodbye, prayed together, and then just . . . left. Death is just the stable doorway, after all, the right thing to happen in its time. It’s only some of the means of transportation that are hell-sent.

But the beautiful thing is, we have a win-win, we who have forever life. Either we receive healing to stay and fight another day, tell more people the Good News, carry on the work a little longer. Or we leave. Evicted by sickness or not, it’s still a victory once through the door.

I like to imagine Eula running through Aslan’s meadows, long hair streaming, grabbing Floyd’s hand to run with her, when he’s not at his easel, capturing the magnificent mountain scenery in pastels. Lillian and Clyde in the swinging chair on their mansion’s front porch, Victor fishing for catfish in the pond while Inez creates beautiful handiwork, freely breathing the pure air. Kerns dancing a Holy Ghost jig and Betty leaping out of her wheelchair to join him, playing her violin. Each one there makes the trip a little shorter and the destination dearer.

And soon they found themselves all walking together – and a great, bright procession it was . . . .

“There was a real railway accident,” said Aslan softly. . . “The term is over: the holidays have begun. The dream is ended: this is the morning.”

And as He spoke, He no longer looked to them like a lion; but the things that began to happen after that were so great and beautiful that I cannot write them . . . But for them it was only the beginning of the real story. All their life in this world had only been the cover and the title page: now they were beginning Chapter One of the Great Story which no one on earth has read: which goes on for ever: in which every chapter is better than the one before.

-The Last Battle by C.S. Lewis

Who do you remember in Aslan’s Country?

Books on Healing

I've added a sidebar of books and other resources on healing and related topics. My purpose is to cover a wide range of theological backgrounds, spanning at least the last hundred years of healing ministry in church history. With varying degrees of acceptance in various time periods, healing has been practiced in some format through many different denominations, and I would like to reflect that. If you have a book on healing which you would like to recommend, please feel free to post a comment.

(If anyone is Episcopalian or knows someone who is, I am looking for a particular book whose title and author I've forgotten, which was recommended to me by an Episcopalian friend years ago. If you have a guess what it might be, let me know.)

Also, I would like to feature various churches (of any denomination) who practice consistent healing ministry, whether in the form of regular opportunity to receive prayer for healing at some point during your worship service, or regularly scheduled, separate meetings for prayer/teaching on healing, or some other format. If your church has any kind of regular healing ministry, or you know of a church that does, please post a comment about that as well. Add as much description as you like.

Christ My Healer

I was just a child, my daughter’s age, about three or four. I don’t even know the date because I was alone in my room and told no one. I spoke only a simple phrase, "Jesus, please come into my heart." I didn’t begin to fully understand my decision until years later. But I know something happened inside me, something changed and in that moment, my deepest core, my spirit, was reborn. I became a new creation. At family devotions, I suddenly felt interested in prayer, this mysterious process of soul communion with Someone of whose reality I was just as certain as of my own parents’, although I could not see or touch Him.

If you count Jesus as your Savior, like I do, what was your salvation experience like? Was it sudden and impulsive, or did it come slowly, after years of doubt and careful investigation of Christ’s claims to be God? Did the moment hit you with intense emotion, or did it feel anti-climactic?

The process – or event – of healing may be more similar than you expect. Romans 10:9, 10 The words you speak, the beliefs you hold in your heart. They work together.

Paul’s encounter featured blinding lights, perhaps his horse reared and neighed in terror, his traveling companions heard thunder, he fell on the ground: lights, sound, action to match the powerful, stubborn personality of this man. To penetrate the darkness of his soul, he needed to be overwhelmed, ravished by the Lover of his being.

Most of us don’t need such forceful persuasion and in fact cringe at the thought. God comes to us softly in a quiet moment, a peaceful warmth like honey spreading through our innermost places, like a mug of cocoa in the intimacy of firelight, soft embers’ crackling. Or we may feel nothing at all, except perhaps the awareness of a new friend, like having a brother for the first time in your life. Someone in your corner.

Still others need to know God first with their minds, no army could invade the castle until logic lowers the drawbridge. C.S. Lewis, Josh McDowell . . . hundreds of others.

Receiving healing is much the same. We receive Him as the individuals He created us to be, each person waiting to be loved. God is enough for each of us. He can come to you through Benny Hinn
or Billy Graham, through as many ways as there are people in this world.

But He is here. He is real. He waits for you in the stillness of your soul. Except for those few who beg for blitzkrieg, His summons is quiet and can always be refused, unlike the king who divorced his queen because she would not appear before him. He respects your dignity, your choice. He is a gentleman who waits for you to invite him to enter your garden.

Receiving Jesus as your Healer is much like receiving Him as your Savior. He is the same, yesterday, today and forever. Yahweh Raphah, the One who heals you.

I know my husband, in the Biblical and in the ordinary sense of the word. But every life season brings new aspects of Mitch for me to learn. I whimsically refer to my Summer Husband and my Winter Husband as the beard grows and is shaved in its time. There’s Mitch the Porsche Man, Mitch the Childbirth Coach, Mitch the Church Planting Pastor, Mitch the Caregiver as he and his Mom have traded
places in the circle of life.

There’s always more to know of Mitch. And because he is created in the image of a limitless God, there always will be. Two people cannot run out of conversation in a lifetime, except as walls come . . .

Jesus is the same way.

If you only know Christ as the Savior who with His blood wiped your slate clean and purchased your ticket to Heaven, would you like to also receive Jesus as your Healer? He’s available for that too.

Healing may be an event, it may be a process, but mostly it is communion with the Healer. Everything important in life isn’t based on what you do; it’s who you know. It’s all about relationship. No striving. No performance. No formulas.

As Joyce Meyer has said, “You are not a human doing. You are a human being.”

Healing is a gift. An act of love already purchased. It’s not about what I do; it’s about what Jesus did.

Because in all of the ways we receive healing – through antidepressants, chiropractic, surgery, chemotherapy, the laying on of hands, nutritional therapy, exercise, anointing oil, counseling, faith confessions, conversations with a friend, prayer alone or in a healing service – however we seek healing, and however healing comes, Jesus is the Healer.

God sent His Word, the living Word, and healed us.

Why a Blog About Healing?

Almost every day I hear of someone fighting serious illness. Sometimes it's chronic, sometimes terminal, but always it is energy-draining, robbing precious people of joy, hope and strength. As an employee of a health plan, I hear it as I have the privilege of interacting with courageous and committed sufferers; I see it in prayer request lists, in the news, or in conversations with friends and family. Once I was standing in line at Safeway and the bagger was talking to the checkout clerk about her young sister's diagnosis with ovarian cancer. Almost every time I talk to my mother, she tells me of two or three more recently diagnosed with, fighting, or dying of cancer or other diseases. The stories themselves get old until I remember that each unique individual is experiencing his or her daily battle in extremely relevant living color. A friend of my husband’s just flew back to the Philippines so her mother could say goodbye to her friends before a brain tumor steals her life.

It’s everywhere, and it can feel overwhelming. I’ve believed in healing for many years, and so does the organization where I work, although there is “big tent” divergence about what that means. As my father is fond of quoting,

“In essentials, unity
In non-essentials, liberty
In all things, charity.”

Outside of work, my friends’ and family’s beliefs also vary widely. Yet, I don’t know anyone, whether Christian or not, who does not believe in healing in a general way, anyone who does not request prayer for healing of themselves or loved ones when sick.

I’ve been a part of Christian organizations and churches all my life and never once have I heard anyone request prayer to be made sick.

So if healing is a good thing, and sickness is a bad thing, I want to learn more about God’s healing power and how to receive it. I’m talking to myself, I personally need to receive more of the Holy Spirit’s wisdom in this area. For myself, for my family, for the many others I care about.

Often I keep silent, beyond a quick “I’ll pray for you,” because I don’t want to offend anyone if their beliefs are different. I’m also acutely sensitive to the pain caused to so many by hurtful, thoughtless remarks. Rather than risk saying the wrong thing, I often say nothing at all.

I think I can find a happy medium here. I think I can do better than stick to the lowest common denominator of “I’ll pray for you.” I can respect other’s beliefs yet still quietly and respectfully share my own.

So that is why I am starting this blog. It’s for me. It’s burning inside me, things I need to know, things I need to learn. If anyone else wants to join the conversation, that’s fine too.