It is deeply painful to watch your daughter suffer, to see her held captive by something that stops her from eating and living her daily life. The anguish of a parent whose child is in the grip of an illness, whether of the mind or the body, is a terrible burden. You carry her pain in your own heart, and that kind of love is the very thing that drives you to fall at the feet of Jesus on her behalf.
There is a story that comes to mind of a mother who was not even part of the covenant people, a woman whose young daughter had an unclean spirit. She came to Jesus and simply fell at his feet, begging him to cast the devil out of her daughter. When his answer seemed to close the door, saying it wasn’t right to take the children’s bread and toss it to the dogs, her faith did not crumble. She grabbed hold of the logic of grace, pointing out that even the little puppies get the crumbs that fall from the table. Her persistence, her refusal to let go of the Lord, brought healing. She went home and found her daughter lying upon the bed, the devil gone. So bring this desperate love you have, this fierce and aching love, and keep laying it down before the Lord. The mother’s faith was the instrument her daughter’s healing rode in on.
We know the mind and the body are not separate things like two rooms with no door between them. When a soul is in profound distress, it changes the body’s very chemistry. The inability to eat, the retreat from daily activities, these are symptoms of a deep internal battle. John, in writing to his beloved friend, expressed a beautiful wish that he would prosper and be in good health even as his soul prospered. That was not a rigid promise that every illness is removed, but it recognized a true and created link between our inner well-being and our physical strength. A mind weighed down by fear, despair, or unseen torment will eventually drag the body down with it.
We do not always understand why the Lord heals in some ways and not others, or why he uses such different methods. With one person, a word is spoken. With another, there is a touch or a question. He does not follow a single mechanical pattern, which reminds us that he sees the person and not just the condition. The apostle Paul himself prayed three times for a thorn to be removed, and the answer was not the healing he asked for, but a grace that was sufficient. We rest there, in the mystery of his wisdom, not in a formula.
The great need is for her mind, her entire being, to fix on something beyond the consuming voice of her own struggle. So much of our torment happens when we turn inward and see nothing but the wreckage. A change of mental attitude, when thinking is no longer obsessed with self but turns toward the Lord, makes a staggering difference. It is not a simple switch to flip, but a turning, a gradual lifting of the eyes. The daughter of Jerusalem in her desolation heard the cry, “What thing shall I liken to thee, that I may comfort thee?” Her breach was great like the sea, and the question hung heavy: “Who can heal thee?” The answer is always, finally, the Lord himself. He is the one who takes the broken bread and the poured-out wine and makes it the source of our wholeness, binding himself to us in our weakness.
The very act of eating, which is now a source of such struggle, is mysteriously a picture of unity. We all partake of one loaf, and in that sharing, Christ becomes a part of us, and we become a part of each other in his body. Right now she cannot take the food her body needs, but pray that she will once again be able to receive the bread that sustains life, and even more, taste the goodness of the one who is the Bread of Life. He was the one who was accused of eating with sinners, graciously drawing near to the unclean and the broken. He is not afraid of her condition. He draws near in the midst of it.
We are praying for healing, for the clouds to lift, for the devouring anxiety to loosen its grip so she can eat with freedom and step back into the fullness of her days. The Lord who healed the daughter of the persistent woman, who rebuked fevers and silent spirits, stands outside of time and is present now with the same power and compassion. Be comforted. Thy faith in his mercy is not misplaced. The one who noticed a desperate touch in a crowd sees your daughter and sees you. He will act in the way that brings him the most glory and her the deepest good.