There is a truth that often escapes us in the hour of sharp trial, yet it remains a cornerstone of comfort. Pain itself, that very agony which racks the frame and confines the limbs, is as much a proof of life as pleasure. The one who feels nothing, dead in trespasses, stirs not when the law speaks. But you, groaning on your bed and finding your body unwilling to obey, are exhibiting the tokens of a life that feels its burden. Let this not be a strange thing to you, as though some new calamity had overtaken you, but rather know that the Great Physician hears the cry of the wounded, even when the wound cries out from the very bones.
It was on a certain day, we read, that the power of the Lord was present to heal. That power resides ever in the ascended Christ, full and undiminished. The case of the poor man sick of the palsy, let down through the tiling, is set before you for your encouragement. He was completely paralyzed, unable to move, as helpless as you describe yourself to be. Yet his friends brought him to Jesus, and the Lord, seeing their faith, spoke first to the deeper malady: "Man, thy sins are forgiven thee." The rational explanation of the whole proceeding is this: he believed Jesus was able to heal him. His need drove him to the Healer. Your extremity of weakness, your inability to walk or even to move, is the very argument the Spirit uses to make you look entirely away from yourself.
The leaves of the tree are for the healing of the nations. A word of His, being His, and recognized as His, and coming home to the heart as His, brings healing to head and heart, conscience and imagination, desire and affection. When Jesus healed the sick, He did not merely point out the disease, but applied the remedy. Calvary is the place for the healing balm. Look to Him now. As you have received Christ Jesus the Lord, so walk in Him, even now, when walking in the body is denied you. The exhortation to walk in Him speaks of a spiritual continuance, a progress of the inner man, an activity of faith that cannot be paralyzed. Let the cry of your heart be, "Jesus! Master! save me, heal me with a word," for His Word is not a sword with a blunt back; it is all edge, cutting through despair, and it is also a healing draught for the most bitter cup.
O that Jesus would walk through this Bethesda now. As He comes, there is a word which belongs to the forgiven and the healed: "Arise, take up thy bed, and walk." To forgive sins and to cause a crippled frame to obey, both are equally the work of God. Do not measure His power by your present feeling, nor His love by your continued pain. Walk in Him just as you would walk in the Valley of the Shadow of Death, but walk on the mountaintops of life’s activities by faith. The dust is to be wiped from our brow, the gyves from our legs; we are to be emancipated, ennobled, and taught to reign with Him. Your groanings are known to Him who bore our sicknesses. Continue to take Him as your All-in-All, and look for the day when the Sun of Righteousness arises upon you with healing in His wings, pronouncing you whole, for pardon and healing are one.