I hear the trembling in your cry, the dread of what is happening in your own flesh, and the fear of what may come. It is a bitter thing to feel one's body become a land unknown and full of shadows. The physician may be puzzled, and you are left staring into a darkness where every thought magnifies the terror. Yet it is precisely here, in the distress that comes from an unknown cause, that the Lord would have you turn to Him who knows all things. We do not even fully know ourselves; mysteries exist within our own bosoms, and these bodily afflictions are abysses we have never explored. But He who made the eye, shall He not see? He who formed the frame, shall He not understand its every tremor?
Your fear is not a strange thing, but you must not let it master you. Fear is weakening. It dishonors God by doubting the arm that piled the heavens and sustains the pillars of the earth. Will that arm be palsied for you? "Fear not, you worm Jacob," says the Lord. The command is not a suggestion; it is a divine remedy. Disobedience is to be afraid when the Almighty has pledged His help. Should He command you to go into this valley of sickness, fear not to enter it, for He will be with you. The great Physician is not merely a diagnostician who points out the disease; Calvary is the place for the healing balm. Jesus links healing with His very presence and teaching.
Your plea for healing is not amiss, but do you know what is good for a man in this life, health or sickness? We are all so quick to conclude that sprightly vigor must be our portion, but who knows? There are saints who, for very gratitude for overflowing health, have been drawn closer to God. And there are other spirits brought nearer to Him on a sickbed, whose fellowship with Christ has been sweeter in the gloom of a darkened room than ever it was in the sunshine. The Lord takes pleasure in those who hope in His mercy, those who are His peculiar treasure. Whether in health or infirmity, you are His jewel if your hope is fixed there.
Fix your eyes, weak as they may now be, not on the growing dimness, but on Jesus, the Tree of Life. There is but one sacred Fountain; to wash therein is health. There is but one great Physician who lays His hands on the sick and they are restored. Pardon and healing, for the soul and, in God’s perfect time, for the body, are one gift from His hand. The Sun of Righteousness rises upon His people with healing in His wings. As for the body, we are on our way to eternal health; the life within the believer is a seed of that perfection which shall be forever. If you could be quite sure you would be in perfect health tomorrow, you would say little of the sickness of this hour. So fix your hope on the resurrection morning, and let present fear be banished by the certainty of future glory.
He that has begun to heal you by His grace will not stop until the cure is complete and you stand without spot or wrinkle. Until the glory life begins, the abiding power of His healing leaves keeps the soul in perpetual health. Cry out to Him, confessing the unknown depths of your own frailty, and look up to the unknown heights of His mercy. "Father, forgive them," was prayed for those who knew not what they did. How much more does He hear the cry of His child who comes to Him in the dark, saying, "I do not know what is happening to my body, but I trust You"? God grant that to you who fear His name the divine cordial of His comfort be given, and that your night be changed to morning.