Let me try to explain. I never really prayed for healing when it came to our infertility. I remember sitting in church one Sunday and the message was on healing; I had a very strong sense that morning that it wasn't my business to pray for physical healing so that we could conceive and carry a healthy child to term; it was almost as if God was saying, "That's not the point, Thelma."
And yet here I sit, some three years later and realize how much healing we have undergone. We are still infertile and our chances of conceiving have not really improved, yet we feel whole. We think of our family and feel complete. The unquenchable longing, the stifled bitterness and deep pain are waning; that old bruise on my heart hurts less when I touch it. That's healing. And believe me, if you've walked this road for any length of time, you realize just how miraculous it is. I say sometimes that we got our miracle and I mean it.
With relation to Len's NF1, I've been told by some that I ought to pray for healing; God is able, they say. I don't doubt that. Neither does Len. I do believe God is in the business of healing (though I'm pretty sure He's not in it for the money, like Benny Hinn.) I believe that if it gave God the greatest glory to heal the genetic imprint that touches every aspect of Len's health, He absolutely could. In a heartbeat.
Last week I was blog hopping and stumbled onto the blog of a mother whose little girl is in the early stages of NF1. Like us, these parents went through infertility; God chose to grow their family through adoption and that precious miracle is facing NF1. A was writing about healing in her latest post as well, and pointed out that many pray for healing (like Paul) and never receive it. I left a comment saying I agreed, and that I don't even know what healing would look like for Len.
No tumours. No pain. No scoliosis. No learning disabilities. No memory retrieval or articulation issues. No countless other ways in which NF impacts his body and our life together.
Saturday was the anniversary of Len's surgery... since that day two years ago, I have prayed often for a change in his situation though usually only with regards to pain. It doesn't really occur to me to pray that all the other tumours in his body would vanish and no new ones would grow. When I asked Len if he's ever asked for the NF to be removed, he shook his head. He, too, prays for a change in the pain, but not for some reversal of his genetic makeup.
Dreaming of that kind of healing makes me long for Christ's return, when we will all be changed, in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye. Honestly, when I imagine healing I long for that moment. And secretly I want to be able to see Len when that change happens because I want to be witness to the joy on his face. (I know, I know... I won't be able to take my eyes off Jesus, but my human heart longs to see his face when he gets his resurrection body.)
So we don't really pray for healing. We prayed for pain management, and the Lord brought together an amazing medical team and a drug that is working. We pray for strength, courage and perseverance and receive all in abundance. On dark days we plead for evidence of His nearness, and He provides it.
Maybe what was true of healing for our infertility is the same for Len's NF... I don't know. Maybe healing isn't the point. Maybe really, it's just about this:
And we rejoice in the hope of the glory of God. Not only so, but we also rejoice in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not disappoint us, because God has poured out his love into our hearts by the Holy Spirit, whom he has given us. ~ Romans 5:2-5
Hope does not disappoint.
Because God.
6 comments:
I just blogged about something similar to this (and yet a little different) on my blog about our journey with chronic illness...continuing to lift you and Len in prayer, my sweet friend.
Thanks for that, Thelma. Good stuff.
This is such an interesting topic for us (Jason and I). Our best friends had a baby one week after Abigail's birth mom chose us...and they new there were going to be health issues. We were at God's feet constantly...and the baby went to be with Christ at a few hours old..we eventually came to the conclusion that God had healed her it just wasn't the type of healing we were looking for. After we heard NF1 with Abigail...there were some problems with her using her legs. The doctor thought there might already be a tumor somewhere. They scheduled an MRI...and I was reading James. I got to the part that said if anyone is sick He should call on the elders and be annointed with oil. I felt like God was calling me to obey. So we did...and it came out quickly in my heart that while I believed God could heal, I also believed he wouldn't...all stemming back to the baby who passed away. However confessing that and continuing to pray was great for me. He did heal whatever was happening with her legs. Within hours she was putting weight on them for the first time. He did not heal her nf. It's a tricky subject this healing...and I'm with you that I look forward to that day when my daughter's body will not produce tumors, but instead be with Christ! Praying for you and Len...
Our walk in faith is a constant grasping at promised wisdom. Seems like God is working continuously with you and Len. Love you both.
Amen sister. Matt used to get condemned by his previous church for "not having enough faith, not believing in God to HEAL him". That b/c Matt's disability didn't suddenly stand up and walk away one day, that he didn't believe in God enough so that God would bless him with healing. Needless to say, Matt left that church.
But I find it funny b/c, look at all the things that are positive, that God has blessed us with, that God has blessed OTHERS with b/c of his disability and illness. How he is a shining, gleaming beacon of what God CAN do!! Right? Your dh's story, and your (and our) IF story, would never have touched the world as much if we were just "healed"...
God CAN, but I believe He has something better in mind.
xoxo friend!
I remember facing the confused looks of friends at church when I told them I could not pray for healing (anymore). They asked, "Don't you believe in the power of prayer?"
It took a while, but I finally found an answer in a devotional passed on to me by a casual aquaintance. In it, my answer arrived. "I do not believe in the power of prayer. I believe in a powerful and sovereign God. Therefore, I pray." Semantics to some, but a vital distinction to me.
I love reading your blog, Thelma.
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