I can picture you sitting by your mother’s bedside, the quiet of the sickroom pressing in, and then glancing across at your father with his aching head and his feet so swollen, and your own heart feels the strain of it all. Two dear ones at once, and a host of troubles tangled together like a knot you cannot unpick. But I want you to remember a little scene from the Gospels, one that has often been like a cool hand on a fevered brow for me. When our Lord Jesus came into Peter’s house, He did not find it free from trouble. It was a hospital before He made it a palace. Peter’s wife’s mother lay prostrate with a great fever, burning up her strength. And the Lord did not stand at the door and send a message in; He crossed the threshold. The fever did not keep Him away, the Great Physician came right into the room where the air was thick with sickness. So think of your mother’s room, and your father’s, as places where Jesus is not afraid to enter. He is not a guest who arrives only when everything is tidy and all is well. He comes where the fever is.
Your mother’s lungs are fighting a hidden enemy, and diabetes has made the battle harder. Your father’s eyes dim, his head throbs, his whole frame seems to cry out with one complaint after another. It would be easy for you to feel that so many ailments at once must be a sign that the Lord has forgotten them. But that is not so. The woman in the crowd who had spent all she had on physicians and only grew worse, Jesus called her “Daughter,” and in one moment she was whole. He can untie a knot even when we have pulled it tighter by our own fretting. The blood of Christ speaks better things than we can ask or think, and it speaks pardon and peace into every sick chamber where faith lifts a trembling hand.
I am not going to promise you that every illness will vanish in an hour, because I do not know the secret will of the Lord. But I know this: the Father pities His children. “As a father pities his children, so the LORD pities those who fear Him. For He knows our frame; He remembers that we are dust.” When your father walks with heavy steps and your mother draws a tired breath, the heart of God is not cold. He knows how the frame can ache and how the spirit can sink. He is not a distant watcher; He is a tender Father, and He understands the weakness of His own children. There are times when He lets the sickness linger, not in anger, but that He might show more of His sustaining grace, and that in the end we might praise Him for the healing with a louder song. The same Lord who healed the fevered woman in Peter’s house has not lost His touch. He still has the willing heart that said, “I will; be clean.”
And see what happened afterward. As soon as the fever left her, Peter’s mother-in-law arose and began to serve. She did not lie there protesting her weakness; the strength He gave was used for ministry. So we may look forward, with quiet hope, to the day when your mother and father will not only have their health restored in the measure that God purposes, but will turn that restored strength into loving service for Him who is the Fountain of life. Every day of ease that comes to them now is a gift to be spent for His glory, even if it is only in a whispered hymn or a patient smile. And for you, as you wait on them and watch with them, your own hands are doing the Lord’s work, though you never leave the house.
Remember, too, that the final healing is already secured. The resurrection morning will sweep away every fungal infection, every clouded eye, every swollen limb, every reason for a headache, all the blood pressure that strains and frightens. The body sown in weakness will be raised in power. And in the meantime, the Lord Jesus Himself carries our sorrows and is touched with the feeling of our infirmities. You are not bearing these burdens alone; He is bearing them with you and for you.
Let me pray with you now.
Our gracious and ever-blessed God, we bring before You this dear household. Look upon this mother, so afflicted in her lungs and her whole frame, and give her the healing that only You can give. Touch her with that hand which stilled the waves and rebuked fevers, and let the breath of life flow freely in her. And look upon this father: we ask that his eyesight may be cleared, his headaches driven away, his blood made calm, and the swelling of his feet depart. O Lord, whose compassions fail not, spread Your wings over this couple, and let them know that You have not cast them off. Strengthen this, Your child, who watches them, give patience, hope, and a quiet confidence in Your love. And above all, let them all find their deepest healing in the blood of Jesus, which speaks peace to every believing heart. In the name of Jesus Christ our Lord and Savior, Amen.