Nov 13 2019 Matthew 15:29-39

They put them at his feet, and he cured them, so that the crowd was amazed when they saw the mute speaking, the maimed whole, the lame walking, and the blind seeing.

And this morning’s reading includes more healing. Until I was feeling like I was at the short end of the healing stick, I never noticed how much healing Jesus talks about and performs. Some days, it feels inspiring. Other days, not.

Today, I’m thinking about all of the people during Jesus’ time and since, who have not been healed, despite knowing Jesus, praying to Jesus, living right lives, despite doing everything right. Yes, Jesus had the mute speak, the maim whole, the lame walk, and the blind see. But only the people he heals. There must have been people in his time who he didn’t have a chance to get to, or in the neighboring communities, who’d heard of the miracle worker alive and well during their times, but not helping their loved ones.

And through time, there have been instances of healing in Jesus’ name, and that is wonderful. And there are certainly instances where good God-following folk have appealed for healing, and their blind couldn’t see, maim made whole.

And in my house, there have been instances where I have prayed, and been healed. Where I worried about one child or another, or my husband when he was in Iraq and his office was affected by a car-bomb, and there have been times when I’ve felt I’ve had answered prayers. God has healed, or smoothed, or protected, or made whole.

And now, I’m feeling more like the folks who know of Jesus’ healing, or watch him walk by, and yet they remain blind, lame, maimed. The longer I have an increasingly sick loved one, the more it feels like I’m one of the many from Jesus’ time we don’t hear about, who saw him walk by, walking further and further away, to accomplish lovely, miraculous healings, but just not here.

This could sound defeatist, and that’s mostly not my intent, although some days, I do feel like pouting or stomping my feet, and crying ‘that’s not fair’. But in better moments, I to think about the truth of where I am, versus the dream of where I imagined or want to be. 

My current world is, in fact, not horrible. I have a great apartment, fabulous job, lovely husband, and wonderful kids – all of them. Even the sick one. How they’re behaving is not what I’d anticipated or hoped, but it is where I am now. For the most part, my loved one is not unhappy – definitely not healthy – but not unhappy. If you were to ask them about their need for healing, they’d question what needs to be healed. In their world, most everything is good.

It turns out, it’s my perception that maybe needs healing. I need to acknowledge that this is where I am, that my loved one is where they are, and although it’s quite different than envisioned, maybe it’s not horrible.

This morning, I’m thinking about the people who aren’t healed as they imagined, and their loved ones. As someone who’s watching my loved one get sicker, I must resist the dualistic thinking either my loved one is miraculously and completely reverted back to ‘normal’, or healing is bunk. I’m sitting with someone who’s decreasingly connected to the reality I’m in, but they’re mostly not unhappy. They’re mostly not calling out for healing. We who are around them are the ones needing them to be healed, because of what we think normal is, or what we envisioned.

Today, I want to wrestle with the notion that where I am, what life looks like now – this is precisely the healing Jesus offers. Where do I need to seek Jesus’ healing, given the entrenched illness my loved one has? What does healing look like? Is there a way to feel healed in the midst of this – as it persists? I can genuinely believe that Jesus’ healing doesn’t have to immediately or miraculously make them whole. And if that’s true, I need to struggle with what healing looks like, despite my first impression, that I’m sitting by the side of the road, watching Jesus meander down the road to his other healing stories.