Over the past three years many have shared stories with me about people who have experienced miraculous healing from life threatening illnesses. Certainly these stories provide elements of encouragement and paint a picture of our good God of healing. Certainly, we hear these stories and rejoice over what God has done.
But this is not the outcome of every story. For every story of healing, there are dozens of stories of loss, grief, sorrow, and brokenness. For every prayer that God answers with a “Yes,” there are dozens where his answer is “No.” What about those stories? Is God still good? Does God still heal?
Absolutely. And those stories need to be told.
My good and powerful God is a God of eternal healing. He never fails. He’s always faithful. He’s always good. He is the good, perfect father, who protects his children. He redeems us. He clothes us in righteousness. He adopts us. He seals us. He guides us. He forgives us. He preserves us until he takes us Home.
Home. Where we are eternally healed. Where we are healed not merely physically, but spiritually. No more brokenness, no more sin, no more flesh.
And so, here I am, thinking deeply about how I need to redefine words like healing and good. If we only talk about those words in the stories of physical healing and prosperity here on earth, we are in danger of distorting the character of God. We are in danger of allowing our circumstances dictate who He is. We are in danger of experiencing despair, hopelessness, and bitterness when our stories don’t end the according to our own definitions of good.
The beginning portion of this I wrote just three days before my Dad went home to be with Jesus. Now three weeks later I write with a grieving heart full of sorrow inexpressible by words.
But by God’s grace I genuinely still affirm, God is good. God heals.