Dear Friend,
Things have been kinda hard around here lately. Just over a year ago, I developed a puzzling case of chronic migraines and I now spend more than half my days managing chronic pain. From wearing a hat full of ice to giving myself shots in the stomach, my life often revolves around pain and how to treat it. It’s not my favorite.
I’d really like a miracle. It could be a miracle pill or a miracle prayer by a televangelist wearing too much hair gel – I don’t care; I just want this pain to go away. But so far the answer from heaven has been ‘no,’ and some days this has been the most painful part of the journey. Where is God when life hurts?
Not surprisingly, my mind has been drawn to the Gospels and Jesus’ healing miracles as I am asking for one myself. Like a pouting pre-teen, I want to hold up my Bible toward heaven and say, “See? You healed them…now why won’t you heal me?” One holy zap from heaven and this pain could go away.
But closer inspection of Jesus’ miracles has led to further reflection, and while some people did get Jesus’ holy healing zap (see Luke 8:40-48 for the bleeding woman), the reality is that Jesus’ miracles were never just about relieving pain – they couldn’t have been – because even those who received miracles still had pain.
The lame man by the pool (John 5:1-18) could suddenly walk, but he was also suddenly harassed by the religious leaders and likely still quite poor thanks to a lifetime of disability. Mary and Martha got their brother Lazarus back from the dead (John 11), but they still lived in a homeland occupied by Rome, with all their usual troubles, and death an inevitable end to their story.
Jesus’ miracles were never just about providing relief because they did not relieve everything. His miracles were markers of his faithfulness and compassion, something to hold on to. His miracles communicated to those receiving them (and those watching): He is the God who sees, and He is the God who makes all things new in the end. This miracle is just a foretaste.
Thanks to the written Word of God sitting here in my lap, I am a witness of Jesus’ healing miracles, and even if I do not receive the miracle personally, I can take away from them: I’m not alone and He’s not done.
Maybe that’s a word you need to hear today too.
You’re not alone and He’s not done.
I don’t know if God is going to give you a miracle or even give you a little relief from your pain. I hope He does. But even if He doesn’t, this is something you can hold on to: You are not alone and He is not done.
If God suddenly, miraculously, healed my migraines today I would be jubilant. Hooray! Ding, dong, the migraines are gone! I would sing, and dance, and praise God all day long!
Until, of course, I didn’t. Until the next hard, painful thing came along. And then I know I would be asking for relief all over again. And maybe that’s why God allows the pain to persist. Because I think I need relief, but what I really need is to believe that I am not alone and He is not done. And when I am suffering, I am forced to wrestle with that unbelief and cling to those Truths and build the faith muscles that I never knew I always needed.
I’m not alone and He’s not done. This is my migraine motto. Feel free to borrow as needed.
Your friend,
Laura
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