The Healing Touch

“I am the Lord that healeth thee.”  Ex. 15:26

Apprehension has become my garment, and I wear it well.  As emergency, after emergency preceded surgery after surgery, the apprehensive cloak cemented itself around me, surrounding my heart, guarding it against any rays of hope that might penetrate.  After Lydia’s last shunt was removed, I traded apprehension for despair.  My optimism dying with her shunts.  As the day of her exam under anesethia approached, the all too familiar knot at the pit of my stomach formed days in advance.  I tried to prepare myself emotionally.  I always try.  I never fully succeed.

With my emotional crutches in place, I set off on the 3 hour drive to her dr.  Everything was running much later than expected.  She was hungry and thirsty.  It is the worst part for me.  She looks at me with tears and pleading.  I know she is hungry.  I know she is thirsty.  I say no.  And I hate myself for it.  Every single time.  She tries to smile and so do I.  We put on our brave faces, and hope the dr. comes soon.

When at last he comes, and takes her away, fear becomes my constant battle.  I try to battle them with His Words, but the fear is real.  It always takes longer than I expect, and I always find myself running through every awful scenario that could be causing the delay.  I generally end up in a bargaining game with the Almighty.  Grass huts and Africa have been mentioned multiple times, to be honest.

And then, the Dr. comes out.  I have come to know this man.  I do not know him on a personal level, but I have memorized his mannerisms.  I know how he starts his speeches if it will be good news, or if I should bite my lower lip and hold on.  He comes over and I listen in disbelief, as he assures me all symptoms of this disease are GONE.  He does not and cannot assure me that they will never return, but right now, at this moment, they have vanished.  She looks so good in fact, he doesn’t need to see her for 3 months!  THREE MONTHS?!  Three whole months of reclaiming her babyhood.  Three whole months of soaking her and my boys in.  Three whole months of normalcy.  I can not believe it.

I look up to see our sweet nurse taking off her glasses and sniffing.  Our anesthesiologist squeezes my shoulder and offers congratulations, our sweet friends were there as well with their little girl, and they cheered with me.  These people have become dear to me.  It is only fitting that they should have been there at this moment to share our good news.  However, I am confident that no one in that room was as happy as I.  An indescribable weight has been lifted.  The shadows that plagued my every moment are gone.  I feel… relief.

I am the Lord that healeth thee.  – Ex. 15:26

Oh, He has healed.  Lydia’s eyes are testimony, but perhaps the real healing took place in this mommy’s heart.  I doubted.  I listened to and wore the garments of fear, instead of choosing His Words.  I refused hope in preference to my despair.  And yet He says, “I am the Lord that healeth thee.”  In spite of my unbelief, in spite of my failures, in spite of my humanity, He choose to heal.  One touch from His hands and we are all made new.

I believe, Lord, help Thou mine unbelief.