Recently I suffered a back injury. When I say suffered, I mean it! It was hard to walk, hard to move. Sitting hurt. Lying down hurt. As I sat in the doctor’s office seeking relief, I complained, “It’s just stupid.” It was dumb, senseless really, that I got hurt in the first place. Vacuuming of all things. And the fact that recovery takes time was even more ridiculous. I didn’t want it in the first place and I didn’t have time for it once it happened. I was impatient with myself, with my body. As if I could just will myself into being better. As if the way that God designed our bodies to heal was unacceptable.
I will admit I am a terrible patient. Hmm… doctors see patients. Ones who must be patient. Who must wait for healing. Who must endure until relief arrives. Although my heart can be tender towards those who are sick or hurting – I certainly don’t hold an ear infection against my children – I am impatient with my own pain, my own weakness. Why is that? I think it’s because I want to seem strong, like I don’t need any help. That sounds like isolation. That sounds like putting myself in God’s place. Those things don’t sound like what God desires and designed me for.
To be honest, the moment of injury wasn’t that painful. Just a twinge really. But then my body took over – it responded to the injury by flooding the area with fluid and blood cells to tend to the damaged nerve. Picture kids on the playground swarming the child who has fallen off the swing. This caused inflammation, which is when the real pain began. Too much stuff in too small a space. I had to step in with ice, heat, and compression to help calm down my body’s powerful response to the injury.
Our hearts are like this sometimes. They are wounded. There is an initial injury, which might not even hurt as badly as what comes next. Emotions rush in, flooding the heart, overwhelming it sometimes. They mean well, they are the normal response, but they can be too much for us to take in all at once. So rather than allow emotions to play their part in the healing process, we beat ourselves up because we’re impatient that we continue to feel pain, that the healing isn’t instantaneous. As if we could just make up our minds to do better, to be better, and it would happen.
But the thing is, just as I can’t will away my back injury, or catapult myself to restoration, our will isn’t enough to heal our hearts. And just as it takes a wiser hand to step in and minister to our physical needs, we sometimes need a wiser hand that gently steps in and ministers to our injured heart.
He lets me rest in green meadows; he leads me beside peaceful streams. He renews my strength. Psalm 23:2-3
Jesus came to bring peace, comfort, healing, freedom (Luke 4:21). Maybe you read accounts of His miracles and wonder why your healing isn’t instantaneous. If God was really healing you, if He really saw you, if He really cared and was acting on your behalf, then all you would have to do is ask and everything would be better. But I don’t think that’s necessarily true.
Jesus took the blind man by the hand and led him out of the village. Then, spitting on the man’s eyes, he laid his hands on him and asked, “Can you see anything now?” The man looked around. “Yes,” he said, “I see people, but I can’t see them very clearly. They look like trees walking around.” Then Jesus placed his hands over the man’s eyes again. As the man stared intently, his sight was completely restored, and he could see everything clearly. Mark 8:23-25
When I read this story, I have to admit that I’m a bit put off by the spit. And then I step back and think about how I’m willing to accept some of God’s ways and not others. I want the gentle touch, the spoken word, the angelic choir. I shy away from the spit, even though that’s the route God has chosen for healing.
Was this man’s blindness too hard for Jesus to heal with one touch? Of course not. Blindness can’t be harder to heal than death! I think God ensured this particular story was preserved to encourage us when our healing takes time. Time passing does not mean that God has forgotten us. And a slow recovery does not mean that you are not healing. God is not blind to your injury or impatient with your recovery. Sometimes He touches us again and again.
Your heart injury is deep. It may go back even farther than whatever has happened in this moment to some other prior injury, previous strain. It takes time to get all the way to the root, to redeem and repair what’s been torn. The thing is, Jesus will heal you completely when you ask Him to. He isn’t going to leave you half-dead, partially blind, or lame. He will not stop until you are completely healed.
I am sure that God, who began the good work within you, will continue his work until it is finally finished on that day when Christ Jesus comes back again. Philippians 1:6