Category: sickness

There is Death in the Camp

And the people spoke against God and against Moses, “Why have you brought us up out of Egypt to die in the wilderness? For there is no food and no water, and we loathe this worthless food.” 

6 Then the Lord sent fiery serpents among the people, and they bit the people, so that many people of Israel died. 7 And the people came to Moses and said, “We have sinned, for we have spoken against the Lord and against you. Pray to the Lord, that he take away the serpents from us.” So Moses prayed for the people. 

8 And the Lord said to Moses, “Make a fiery serpent and set it on a pole, and everyone who is bitten, when he sees it, shall live.” 9 So Moses made a bronze serpent and set it on a pole.

Then anyone who was bitten by a snake could look at the bronze snake and be healed!

Numbers 21:6-9, ESV

The children of Israel were under attack by thousands of snakes. I remember hearing of Jonestown, where on November 18, 1978 when 918 people drank ‘kool-aid’ mixed with cyanide. The whole thing was based on Jim Jones‘ delusion and rampant paranoia.

Death like this is never easy to deal with. It’s frightening. It boggles our mind.

It’s hear we read of poisonous snakes attacking people in the camp of Israel.  The people had taken umbrage with God and Moses because the way was too hard. They accused God of leading them out of Egypt, just so He could whole-scale destroy them.

I venture to say that the effects of sin have a terrible tendency (and a purpose) to kill people.  Its infection will work through our “blood stream” and be a certain poison that will eventually destroy us.

If we could actually see the snakes we might just take our sin a bit more seriously.  

But our particular viperous horde comes to us on a spiritual level.  We aren’t suddenly falling down, and our sin doesn’t bring us immediate death. (A slow death, which is, maybe harder.) We see it sometimes, but we can’t do anything about it.

Like it or not, there is a savage battle going on in our hearts and minds.  

The cross of Jesus is the only antidote, and through faith the poison is being rendered inert.  But personally I must admit, there are good days, and not-so-good ones. I know it’s the poison that works inside of me. Others may see it sometimes, but it’s pretty obvious to me.

“And as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, so must the Son of Man be lifted up, 15 that whoever believes in him may have eternal life.”

John 3:14-15, ESV

I read the following story somewhere, and it seems to explain exactly what i want to say.  I think it is more than a cute story.  If we should take the time and unzip it, the truth will spill out.

“A fight is going on inside me,” said an old man to his son. “It is a terrible fight between two wolves. One wolf is evil. He is anger, envy, sorrow, regret, greed, arrogance, self-pity, guilt, resentment, inferiority, lies, false pride, superiority, and ego.

The other wolf is good. he is joy, peace, love, hope, serenity, humility, kindness, benevolence, empathy, generosity, truth, compassion, and faith. The same fight is going on inside you.”

The son thought about it for a minute and then asked, “Which wolf will win?” The old man replied simply, “The one you feed.”

Look  to Jesus, who was lifted up to destroy our sin, and heal our lives.  Fix your eyes on Him, and He will save.

My other teaching site is at alaskabibleteacher.com

For a deeper study in Numbers 21 can be found at: A Place for Truth.

Does Your Sickness Bless You?

The Sick Child 1907 Edvard Munch 1863-1944

“A man was lying there who had been sick for thirty-eight years.”

John 5:5

That’s an incredibly long time to be sick. It must be difficult to be an invalid year after year, with no real hope of ever being healed. This passage describes the scene, (see John 5:1-15). Apparently there was a large group of invalids waiting for the stirring of the waters. That misplaced hope was all they had.

I’ve often wondered why Jesus didn’t heal them all. Why just one when there were so many?

Perhaps the issue was their spiritual state. Most were focused on the pool, they felt that this was their only hope. They could see nothing else. So many today are distracted, we look at those things that might save us instead of looking at Jesus.

Perhaps Jesus would return to the Pool of Bethesda on another day. We’re not told but we know Jesus did quite a few miracles that aren’t recorded. (John 21:25.)

It was the Sabbath, and the healing violated the religious rules of the Pharisees. Jesus refused this man-made edict, and did the will of God. This decision meant healing this paralyzed man.

God doesn’t make mistakes in dealing with His own children.

Our Father does His will, and as believers we must trust in Him and what He promises. By faith, we however believe in His goodness and love. We reject the lies the evil one tells us about our spiritual Father.

My confidence is that He knows in which school I will learn the best lessons

He knows what experiences are necessary for me to grow up. Knowing this doesn’t make it easier, but it does make it eternal. There’s a graduation day coming soon.

We have no power in ourselves to do Christ’s will, but if we do begin to obey what He asks the needed grace is given. Young people often say that they are afraid to enter into a Christian life because they can not do what will be required. In their own strength, they cannot. Plain and simple. 

Human strength in itself is basically inadequate for what life throws at us.

I’m convinced that sick-rooms should be seen as holy places, especially set apart for believers who are becoming more like Jesus everyday. It’s hard, but we remember that God has summoned us there for some special work upon our souls. We must be very careful here or we will miss the good He wants us to receive.

It’s really only those who are trusting Christ and crying out for grace that become blessed by their sickness. I hate to say it but as a believer I’ve found pain to be the best teacher I ever had. I’ve also wasted these opportunities.

But even in that hard place, look for His lessons.

“Too many invalids grow discontented, unhappy, sour, and fretful. Sickness oftentimes fails to do good to those who suffer. There are few experiences in which we so much need to be watchful over ourselves and prayerful toward God.

Be sure to keep the sickness out of your heart, and keep Christ there with His love and peace.”

—JR Miller

Making a List

This is a scary list. We’re told repeatedly that love is the evidence that disciples are to be identified. Love is the blood of the body. It’s that necessary. It’s critical. We’re called to love (one another) that proves we’re real and authentic.

Some of us are handicapped, either mentally or physically. Our issues are truly formidable, very few understand.

I pretty much live in physical pain now. I struggle with depression. I have some battles that few understand. And I get terribly self-absorbed by all of it. If love is the blood of the Christian then I absolutely need a transfusion. I’m anemic. I’m the proverbial 95 pound spiritual weakling! 😁

“Love one another.” I believe I’m missing this in my spiritual walk. For the most part I operate as “to tolerate one another.” It’s easy to love those who love me, but that’s not how discipleship to Jesus works. He wants us to find enemies to love. (At least I think it does.)

Our Teacher, the Holy Spirit, knows how ignorant we really are. But He is patient and oh so very kind. He has lessons that fit us and our needs. I want to love (usually) and I’m counting on Him to tutor me. How do I do this?

You learn to love by loving.

A few things (I know it’s a terribly incomplete list):

  • To love you must walk in discernment. Learn to “see” the needs of specific people. Contrary to church opinion, discernment is not to pass judgement on another, rather it’s all about seeing needs. Not everyone can do this.
  • To love takes availability. You need to be “ready for use.” This takes a certain amount of skill. I’m a terrible kind of introvert. Sometimes I won’t answer the phone or go to a home group. I sorta resent it. The Spirit keeps putting me in spots that require interaction with others, and I hate it.
  • Love creates humility in us (which takes some doing). As I learn to love I find myself stripped down and washing somebody’s feet. I become a servant who is learning to scrub between the toes if that’s what it takes.
  • To love you must love others just like Jesus loves you. (Yikes!) “The extra mile,” all of that. So tell me, how much has He loved you? Isn’t that supposed to teach you something? Remember, love is a fruit of Him living inside of you.
  • To love creates growing joy. This joy will protect us from legalism. When joy is operational every burden is light–we do our tasks smiling. I heard a preacher speak about J.O.Y. Jesus, Others, and You. In order of importance.
  • To love is to learn how to pray. Intercession is like oxygen to a fire. It’s like one of those old fashioned bellows to a sputtering flame. It pumps air into the pile of twigs and wood to spread the fire and ignite a blaze. We pray and love starts spreading.

To live with hard mental and physical issues as an authentic Christian is profoundly difficult. We get so self-absorbed at times. But being a disciple of love isn’t just for healthy believers, it’s also for us who struggle.

Grace is increased exponentially to those of us with deep physical problems.

I totally believe this. God takes special care as He works on and in us. We can count on Him to give us the extra attention we need as we learn love.

I’ve found that suffering is like learning another language. Changed by His love we are speaking to others in a way they understand. We can communicate with others because we’ve learned how to “speak their language.” We have been taught by God to speak into broken lives because we’ve been broken too.

“We love because he first loved us.”

1 John 4:19

2 Corinthians 12:9

When Brutality Smashes Into Grace

photo, by Jonny Jelnek- Flickr

“Don’t waste your pain; use it to help others.  Your greatest ministry will most likely come out of your greatest hurt.” 

Rick Warren

Nothing I can say will cause your pain to go away. Any words or counsel are nice but weak when applied to that grievous wound or disability. Fellow believers will want to guide you, they mean well. They love Jesus and their hearts are good. I know this.

But it can be like two Tylenol to a man with a broken leg.

Pain, in every way I can think of, is always evil. It raises its head to either nibble at our edges or devour us completely.

I have friends who struggle with migraines and others with Lou Gehrig’s disease.  A few friends have been incredibly injured, and a few others have impaired disabilities.  Two or three have severe diabetes. One has a painful degenerative hip syndrome.  Also, I have a dear elderly saint in her later stages of Alzheimer’s. One of my friends has cerebral palsy. 

(Enough already?!)

I must tell you I also walk in chronic pain and am permanently disabled. My own discipleship hasn’t been easy. Pain has only shown me my need to invite His powerful presence of Jesus, and to become fully His. I’m learning this.

We who hurt deeply are given the option of becoming truly gentle people. 

Gentleness is not an easily given gig– the lessons can be rude and hard and even with possible tears. Faith lifts the rough veil of this ugly circumstance and finds the merciful God beaming with love.

And we are taught the hard reality of human beings. Looking eye to eye we connect with people and grasp their struggling lives. We see their needs and want to alleviate pain.  We want to serve and give and love, finally.

Love shows me how it should be done; and suddenly a profound mystery, I’m loving like Jesus! I’m doing what He would do. Our hearts swell at this revelation. We understand. 

And our hearts will decide that issue. Is it real?

So few really understand and discern, and even fewer can help you. Love them all. Love Jesus. Stay broken, gentle, and faithful to Loving Father.

A few years ago some asked me if I had the faith to be healed, they challenge us, “where’s your faith, brother?” 

Hmm. But what about having faith in God even when you stay sick? To actively trust the special kindness of Him no matter what?  

If you had never known afflictions in your own life, how do you think that you can properly touch those ‘nail-scarred’ hands which Jesus meets you with?  And the apostles, and all those martyrs from every generation in an unbroken line of suffering. 

And what about their crosses?

Our own?? 

“Ah, afflicted one, your disabilities were meant to unite with God’s enabling, your weakness to combine with His power. God’s grace is at hand –sufficient– and at its best when human weakness is most profound.”

F.B. Meyerbry-signat (1)