My heart goes out to you as you watch your little one with that troubling redness in her eyes. You saw it this morning, and a thousand fears must have rushed in at once. That is the way of a parent’s love: an anxious eye never rests when something ails the child. But I want you to know this, while your eyes are watching her, the eyes of the Lord are watching you both, and His eyes are never heavy with sleep. He that keeps Israel neither slumbers nor nods. The same Shepherd who watches the stars in their courses and numbers the hairs of your head has His eye upon your daughter now, and upon you in your worry.
It is a small thing for Him to reach down and touch those little eyes. Do you remember how the physician Luke tells us that the power of the Lord was present to heal? That power has not waned with the passing of the years. Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, today, and forever. His hand is not shortened that it cannot save, nor His ear grown dull that it cannot hear. When that dear child was let down through the roof long ago, the Lord saw not only the palsied body but the man’s deepest need, and He spoke pardon first and then healing. Your daughter’s need may seem small to some, a mere redness, but to your heart it is everything, and to the heart of Jesus it is not too little to notice. A father’s hand is quick to brush away a tear; your heavenly Father’s hand is quicker still.
Sometimes we look only at what our natural eyes can see, the red hue, the uncertainty, the long night ahead. But there is another sight. When Hagar sat in the wilderness with her child failing, she wept because her eyes were fixed on the empty water bottle. She did not see the well that was there all along, until the Lord opened her eyes. I pray that even now, while you wait, the Lord would open your eyes to see the provision He has already made. Not that you must conjure up some special faith to earn His help, but that you would see Jesus standing ready, willing, more tender than any mother, more powerful than any disease. He does not need to be roused from slumber; He does not need to be persuaded to be kind. He is kindness itself.
And think of this: in the paradise above, the tree of life yields its fruit every month, and its leaves are for healing. That healing is not only for the age to come; its shadow falls across our sickbeds even now. Every mercy that drops upon us in this life is a leaf from that tree, sent ahead to sweeten the journey home. That little redness may prove to be nothing at all, or it may be the Lord’s messenger to draw your heart closer to His own. In either case, the outcome is safe in His hands. The black-edged envelope that frightens us often contains a love letter from the King.
I do not stand here telling you to be stoical or to pretend you feel no fear. Fear is natural, for love is tender. But underneath that fear, let there be a calm trust, as a child puts her hand into her father’s in a dark street. You have brought your daughter to Jesus in prayer; you have done the wisest thing. Now leave her there. He never mislays what is committed to Him. He never turns a deaf ear to the cry of the needy. The answer may come in a single hour, or it may tarry a little while to test and strengthen your faith, but it will come. The Lord’s healing power is present now, as surely as when He walked the lanes of Galilee.
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Lord Jesus, Thou great Physician, we bring this little one before Thee. Her eyes are red, and her mother’s heart is uneasy. Lay Thy cool hand upon that inflammation, and let Thy healing life flow into every tender part. Quiet the anxious thoughts of this dear parent, and give the peace that passeth understanding. Whether Thou dost touch and heal in an instant or dost use common means over a few days, let Thy presence be as real as the sunlight, and let faith rise above the fretfulness of the moment. We leave the child in Thy keeping, for Thou art the Shepherd who never slumbers. We trust Thee, and we will not be afraid, for Thou art with us. Amen.