Thankful for Jehovah-Rapha

Yesterday I spent Thanksgiving with my family of origin. My little brood traveled to be with my mother, brothers and their families, plus friends and extended family. The kids ran wild with their cousins and are even now sleeping soundly (6:50 am) after such an active, fun, full day. The adults enjoyed razzing each other, watching football, eating everyone’s favorite dishes, and generally being together. 

Before we attacked the mountains of food, however, we did gather around to give thanks. I was surprised to hear my mom take charge of the prayer with such confidence and grace. Often that task is delegated. But she thanked God for those who had traveled to be there (aww, she meant us!), the others who came across town, the food, etc. In a smooth transition, she then asked us to remember “Paw-Paw” –her late husband, my stepfather–who was no longer with us. The prayer ended, and we began the feast. 

The more I thought about my mom’s prayer, the more I marveled at God’s healing grace. She said his name without her voice cracking. She was willing and able to pray aloud and acknowledge his obvious absence. It’s been 3 1/2 years since he died, and this is the first time we’ve gathered as a family that she’s been able to do that with any sense of peace. Maybe it was just God’s grace for that moment–I don’t care!–but her demeanor as she prayed touched me as much as the words she spoke. And I’m grateful to the Healer of the hurting.

This Thanksgiving, some of my closest friends are suffering deeply, having recently lost loved ones in sudden and tragic circumstances. Others continue to mourn losses from years past, and several suffer with chronic health issues. For their sakes, too, I am grateful to follow the God Who Heals, Jehovah Rapha. He redeems all things, makes all things new, perfects and honors the growth and maturity that comes with suffering. 

A flesh wound that gashes through muscle must be doctored, with skill and time and care, so that it can scab over as it heals. The outside may look angry and ugly, but inside the wound is being healed. Over time, the scab falls away to reveal new flesh, whole and strong. Yet most likely a scar remains. Our hurting hearts are much the same! We can heal, thanks be to God, but we will not come away unscarred at some level. 

My husband recently had surgery on his thumb. He’s out of the cast now, and the doctor says it looks great. He should regain full use of that torn, now repaired, ligament. But he’ll have to be disciplined to exercise it, and the therapy will hurt sometimes. Even after it’s completely healed, he’ll always have the scar. 

Samson, the subject of our pastor’s most recent sermon, illustrates God’s healing power. Once a mighty hero and judge, he spent the last years of his life a disgraced captive, his eyes were gouged out and his hair–the symbol of his strength–shaved off. But blind men can still think and pray, and hair grows back. God was able to use him, scarred as he was, to strike down Israel’s enemies one last time. (Judges 16)

We who hurt can rest in the knowledge that God is near. We may not be at that place of wholeness yet. The pain may be too fresh, the loss too recent. But the Healer is working.

Jeremiah 31:13

The Lord says, “At that time young women will dance and be glad.Young men and old men will rejoice. I will turn their grief into gladness.I will give them comfort and joy in place of their sorrow.

Psalm 30:5b

One may experience sorrow during the night,but joy arrives in the morning.

As an expectant mother, I’m grateful that God created our bodies to heal from traumatic events :). As a mother who has delivered kisses and bandaids that “heal” her children’s boo-boo’s, I’m grateful for God’s gift of love that heals even momentary wounds. As a daughter watching her mother (and friend witnessing her friends) grieve, I give thanks to the Almighty Healer who will restore all things.

Only He can promise that “joy arrives in the morning” and make good on that vow. Praise God!