The prayer has risen to the throne of grace. There is one great Physician, and His hands are laid upon the sick with sovereign skill. He who bore our sicknesses and carried our sorrows is not far from the operating chamber today. His presence fills the place where two or three gather in His name, and His power is undiminished, the same yesterday, today, and forever.
No complication can baffle Him. No crisis can surprise Him. The leaves of the tree are for healing, and there is no other balm but the one plant of renown, Jesus Christ, and Him crucified. The knife in a surgeon’s hand is guided by a purpose higher than human skill can fathom, for the Lord works through means, often using the wisdom He has given to men to accomplish His restorative designs. But the ultimate healing, the deep and lasting cure, flows from Calvary’s fountain. There pardon and health are one. When Jesus healed the palsied man, He first declared, “Your sins are forgiven you.” That man lay still, in no hurry to rise, for his soul had found a peace that surpassed the mending of limbs. So may it be with this dear one, a calm assurance that, being justified by faith, they have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ. The well of bitterness is dried up, and whatever draught remains is changed into a healing cup.
Fear not. The Lord’s word stands: “I will never leave you, nor forsake you.” Through every supposable danger, every conceivable difficulty, this promise carries us. The soul that rests in Christ is secure, though all Hell should endeavor to shake it. Let the surgeons’ hands be steady, let the nurses’ care be tender, but let the heart be fixed upon the eternal Healer. He wounds only that we may seek Him, and He binds up with a gentleness that knows no limit. There is no stint in His healing power, no case too desperate, no frame too frail. The utmost length of human sickness is reached by His love.
Look to the Cross. There the bitter medicine was drained for us. Now we come, not to a flaming sword, but to an open door, and pluck the leaves that heal the nations. May the Sun of Righteousness arise with healing in His wings upon the surgical bed, bringing a recovery free from complication and swift in its course. And may this trial of the body, sanctified by the Spirit, draw the heart nearer to the Savior, teaching a deeper reliance upon Him who heals forever. Once His hand is laid upon a soul, He never casts it off. Go, then, into this valley with a song, for the Lord is there. He makes His people to walk up and down in His name, in secure and active pleasure, and no taskmaster’s yoke shall gall them.