You have poured out many cares: a sore throat, a runny nose, a mother’s criticism, a father’s questioning, a card that troubles you, a body you wish were lighter, and a dread of sickness. All these have become one loud fever in your soul. But the greater sickness is not in the throat or the nose; it is in the heart that is tossed by such waves. The Lord who touched Peter’s mother-in-law did not merely cool her brow. In a moment He gave back perfect health, so that she rose and served. The disease was ordinary, but the healing showed His power. So it is with you. Do you seek health? Seek first the Physician who heals both body and soul, for these bodily ailments are the light affliction. But the soul’s fever, the anxiety that gnaws at you about rooms and weight and blood, that is the sickness which must be quenched.
You say your mother criticizes, your father questions about money. But examine yourself. Is the room truly not loaded? Perhaps it is loaded with things you cling to, possessions that weigh you down. Covetousness is a fire that consumes the house. The love of things, even a few coins or a card, can make a soul gasp like a publican caught in his own net. Yet what does the Scripture say? Zacchaeus, a chief publican, was set free in a single hour. He did not bargain; he gave half his goods to the poor and restored fourfold to the defrauded. That is the medicine. You ask God to move your father to give without argument. Instead, ask that your own heart be loosened from needing so many things. When you seek money, do you seek it to pile up, or to serve? One fear drives a man to clutch; another fear, holy fear, drives him to open his hand.
This runny nose, these allergies, this worry over blood and pressure and diabetes: they are the small pains. But a man will scream at the sight of a physician’s knife, and choose a rotting sore over a moment’s burn. Will you be that child? The Lord permits these trifling aggravations to rouse you. The body frets; the spirit should watch. If you had no troubles, you might sleep into hell. These daily pinpricks are the trumpet of the Physician, saying, “Look upward. Do not trust in a card or a weight or a clean bill of blood. Trust in the One who heals the hidden man.”
I do not dismiss your grief. When Paul came to Troas, a door was opened, but he had no relief because he found not Titus. The absence of a brother made the burden heavier. So you, lacking a kind word in your house, feel the storm more keenly. But then what? Paul did not abandon his work; he went on. So must you. Turn the criticism into a silencer by doing good. Serve your mother, honor your father, and if they speak harshly, bless them. A brother aided by a brother becomes a fortified city. Be the first to build that wall, not with arguments, but with meekness.
You want to lose weight, you fear gaining, you dread high blood pressure. These are not wrong to mention, but they are small. The body is a shadow, a flower, a stream that flows by. Those who came before you, rich and poor, are now dust. Their sins done by reason of bodily cares remain, and the punishment for them is eternal. Do you tremble at diabetes? Tremble rather at the covetousness that no blood test reveals. The physician lances the boil; the soul rebels. But if you bear the small pain, health comes. So fast a little from rich foods, not merely to thin the flesh, but to sober the spirit. Offer that small struggle to God, and He will give strength for the greater.
You are worried about your blood work. Then let that worry be the door. Step through it into sobriety. Those who hear the word and remain unchanged are trees that receive many strokes; at the tenth blow they fall and bear fruit. I am fully persuaded that your desire to hear, your eager pouring out of these requests, will bear fruit if you do not despair. Do not seek a life without problems at ### or any store. Seek a heart without complaint. The publican was set free when he ceased to love money; you will be set free when you cease to love a comfortable, unruffled life. Endure the runny nose as a companion that reminds you to pray. Endure the criticism as a file that smoothes your rough edges. Endure the anxiety as a call to cast yourself on the mercy that is mightier than any card or any human approval.
Let your prayers, then, be not a string of frets but one cry: “Lord, heal my soul, for I have sinned in clinging to these passing things.” When the fever of covetousness is put out, you will find the bodily ailments lighter, the family strife quieter, and the future, whatever the blood may show, held fast in the hand of Christ.
Prayer Focus: God, Thank You for loving me. Thank You for loving me, Jesus. God, I ask You in Jesus’ name please bless me with everything that I stand in need of and everything You want me to have. 
