Thursday, August 13, 2015

Thursday, August 13, 2015

Mark 5:27-30

She had heard about Jesus, and came up behind him in the crowd and touched his cloak, for she said, ‘If I but touch his clothes, I will be made well.’ Immediately her hemorrhage stopped; and she felt in her body that she was healed of her disease. Immediately aware that power had gone forth from him, Jesus turned about in the crowd and said, ‘Who touched my clothes?’


I wrote a prayer for healing and sent it to a friend. She sent it across state lines through digital media to her sister, a thousand miles away, and the sister is healed.

Well, not as we usually define it. Surgery still awaited and an uncertain future. Perhaps restoration of body will come, freedom from pain and the ability to enjoy simple pleasures again. Maybe.

But there was healing  … and hope, and I can’t explain it, no more than I can explain what relief and expansion of heart that comes when you pour out your troubles to a soul you know who loves you.

Nor can I explain the feeling that comes when I take my grandson into me arms, knowing the rejection he continues to receive from a school that sees him only as a data point, not a charming seven year old who needs a little extra help.

What flows through me? Why is it better when, sleepy-eyed, he wanders into my study and falls into my arms for a morning hug as he wipes the sleep from his eyes, a weathered comfort blanket rumpled around his shoulders?

There is no adequate explanation for the magic in that hug. Nor can anyone explain the healing that happens in the love that flows between us.

I know only that there are touches in which we know a great love in and beyond us, touches in which we know ourselves inside a great love that holds us … and everything that ever has or ever will happen to us. Healing happens in those touches.

Our broken bodies and troubled situations may not change. We may not get everything we want, but feeling the flow of this great love we know … everything will be alright … even when it isn’t, even when people reject and illness refuses to release us.

Even then, healing comes … each day … in the touch of hands and hearts where Love is.

Pr. David L. Miller

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