When God Doesn’t Heal You

Mike Mason

God heals. Of that I have no doubt. We have many promises and see so much actual healing in Scripture. Jesus’ ministry would connect with hundreds of people who would be physically touched. The Lord would pass the baton on to His Church. We’re called to “lay hands on the sick,” (James 5:14-15).

But not everyone who is sick will receive physical healing. Even those who were active in ministry knew sickness.

In the second episode of season 3 of “The Chosen,” Little James, who we’ve seen walks with a limp, comes to Jesus after He commissions the Apostles. He tells him he finds it hard to believe that he will be healing people, given that Jesus hasn’t healed him.

“Do you want to be healed?” asks Jesus.

“Yes, of course,” James says, “if that’s possible. Why haven’t you?” he asks Jesus—again, a question some of us would’ve asked.

“Because I trust you,” Jesus says. “Little James. Precious Little James. I need you to listen to me very carefully, because what I am going to say defines your whole life to this point and will define the rest of your life. Do you understand?”

Jesus tells James that he will heal many people, and they will have a good story to tell.

“To know how to proclaim that you still praise God in spite of this—to know how to focus on all that matters, so much more than the body—to show people that you can be patient with your suffering here on Earth, because you know you’ll spend eternity with no suffering—not everyone can understand that. How many people do you think the Father and I trust this with? Not many.”

“But the others,” James says, “they are so much more … stronger, better at this.”

“James, I love you,” Jesus says, “but I don’t want to hear that ever again.”

“I know how easy it is to say the Psalm of David, that I am beautifully and wonderfully made, but it doesn’t make this any easier,” says James, begins to weep. “It doesn’t make me feel like any less of a burden.”

“When you pass from this earth,” Jesus says to James, “and you meet your Father in Heaven, where Isaiah promises you will leap like a deer, your reward will be great. So hold on a little longer. And when you discover yourself finding true strength because of your weakness, when you do great things in my Name in spite of this, the impact will last for generations. Do you understand?”

James cries, and says, “Yes. Thank you, Master.”

I believe that there are two truths that every Christian can count on. These are solid, and completely trustworthy. They are forever fixed and will never change.

“Fear not, for I am with you; be not dismayed, for I am your God; I will strengthen you, I will help you, I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.” Isaiah 41:10

“He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away.” Revelation 21:4

     John Henry Newman  

There is Death in the Camp

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.

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.

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.

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.

1 John 4:19

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)