Silas
Beloved of All
What a joy to read of the peaceful night and calm day your son had. Thanking Jesus together for these gifts is right and good, for every step of improvement, no matter how gradual, is a touch from His hand. We sometimes imagine healing must always be instantaneous, a sudden leap from sickness to wholeness. Yet the Scriptures show us something wider. There was a man Jesus touched once whose sight returned only partially at first, and then fully after a second touch. The processes our own bodies use to mend over time are no less divine; the One who fashioned nature also fashioned its slow and steady repairs. When you see your son sleeping a little better or showing fewer distressing habits, you are witnessing a genuine work of God, just as surely as any dramatic miracle.
You are asking for no more setbacks, only breakthrough. That longing is understood by the Lord who went about doing good and healing all manner of sicknesses. Yet we must hold this desire with humility. Not everyone in Scripture was healed, and we are not always granted to know why. Paul pleaded three times for a thorn to be removed, and the answer was not the removal he sought but sufficient grace. This is no reflection on the strength of your faith or the depth of your love for your son. It is the mystery of a world still groaning under the weight of sin’s consequences. The same Jesus who calmed raging seas and commanded evil spirits also walked with many who continued to suffer. Our confidence does not rest in a promise that every affliction will vanish now, but in the truth that He has borne our infirmities and carried our sorrows. Matthew ties the physical healings Jesus performed directly to Isaiah’s prophecy of the suffering servant, widening the work of the cross to touch our bodies, not only our souls.
So pray boldly for your son’s mind, body, and spirit. Ask for the complete restoration you long to see: the healing of autism, the calming of anxiety, the end of every tormenting habit. There is nothing unscriptural in bringing these requests to the throne. Jesus Himself healed every sickness and every disease among the multitudes, and He is the same yesterday, today, and forever. Yet rest also in this: even where healing comes by degrees, or where full deliverance tarries, Christ is present. When two or three gather in His name, He is there. He was there in that peaceful night, and He will be there in the nights to come. His nearness is itself a healing, soothing the wounds of the spirit even while the body waits.
The protective covering you are asking for, the hedge around your son, your home, your vehicle, reflects a sound instinct. Evil is real, but the authority of Jesus over it is final. Your rebuke of spiritual attacks and negative influences is not a formula to be chanted but a declaration of truth: your son is a child of the Most High God, and no weapon formed against him will ultimately prosper. That does not mean no battle, but it does mean no defeat. The full armor of God is his clothing, and the blood of Christ is his cleansing. These are not empty words; they are the realities of the kingdom.
Do not be troubled if the path includes gradual restoration rather than a sudden reversal. The mother whose child was slowly healing from internal injury, the father who watched his son improve bit by bit, they too were walking in the mercy of God. Keep asking for wisdom regarding new services and caregivers. Ask the Lord to provide people of compassion and understanding, and to mend every strained relationship within your family. He is in the business of restoration, whether of lands long desolate or of bonds frayed by stress and sorrow.
Above all, guard against the cruel suggestion that if healing delays, someone’s faith must be deficient. That is the voice of Job’s comforters, and it has no place in the gospel. Your son’s worth and your love for him are not measured by the speed of his recovery. Christ’s compassion is not rationed out according to our performance. He went among the broken and the afflicted, and He was moved with compassion, not calculation.
May tonight bring another calm and restful sleep. May the peace that surpasses understanding settle over your son, quieting every inner storm. May his meals be taken without distress, his outings be filled with joy, and his relationships be knit together in love. And may you, as you watch and pray, know the presence of the One who never slumbers nor sleeps, holding you both in His mighty and gentle hands.
You are asking for no more setbacks, only breakthrough. That longing is understood by the Lord who went about doing good and healing all manner of sicknesses. Yet we must hold this desire with humility. Not everyone in Scripture was healed, and we are not always granted to know why. Paul pleaded three times for a thorn to be removed, and the answer was not the removal he sought but sufficient grace. This is no reflection on the strength of your faith or the depth of your love for your son. It is the mystery of a world still groaning under the weight of sin’s consequences. The same Jesus who calmed raging seas and commanded evil spirits also walked with many who continued to suffer. Our confidence does not rest in a promise that every affliction will vanish now, but in the truth that He has borne our infirmities and carried our sorrows. Matthew ties the physical healings Jesus performed directly to Isaiah’s prophecy of the suffering servant, widening the work of the cross to touch our bodies, not only our souls.
So pray boldly for your son’s mind, body, and spirit. Ask for the complete restoration you long to see: the healing of autism, the calming of anxiety, the end of every tormenting habit. There is nothing unscriptural in bringing these requests to the throne. Jesus Himself healed every sickness and every disease among the multitudes, and He is the same yesterday, today, and forever. Yet rest also in this: even where healing comes by degrees, or where full deliverance tarries, Christ is present. When two or three gather in His name, He is there. He was there in that peaceful night, and He will be there in the nights to come. His nearness is itself a healing, soothing the wounds of the spirit even while the body waits.
The protective covering you are asking for, the hedge around your son, your home, your vehicle, reflects a sound instinct. Evil is real, but the authority of Jesus over it is final. Your rebuke of spiritual attacks and negative influences is not a formula to be chanted but a declaration of truth: your son is a child of the Most High God, and no weapon formed against him will ultimately prosper. That does not mean no battle, but it does mean no defeat. The full armor of God is his clothing, and the blood of Christ is his cleansing. These are not empty words; they are the realities of the kingdom.
Do not be troubled if the path includes gradual restoration rather than a sudden reversal. The mother whose child was slowly healing from internal injury, the father who watched his son improve bit by bit, they too were walking in the mercy of God. Keep asking for wisdom regarding new services and caregivers. Ask the Lord to provide people of compassion and understanding, and to mend every strained relationship within your family. He is in the business of restoration, whether of lands long desolate or of bonds frayed by stress and sorrow.
Above all, guard against the cruel suggestion that if healing delays, someone’s faith must be deficient. That is the voice of Job’s comforters, and it has no place in the gospel. Your son’s worth and your love for him are not measured by the speed of his recovery. Christ’s compassion is not rationed out according to our performance. He went among the broken and the afflicted, and He was moved with compassion, not calculation.
May tonight bring another calm and restful sleep. May the peace that surpasses understanding settle over your son, quieting every inner storm. May his meals be taken without distress, his outings be filled with joy, and his relationships be knit together in love. And may you, as you watch and pray, know the presence of the One who never slumbers nor sleeps, holding you both in His mighty and gentle hands.
