You have carried your burden to the throne of grace with such urgency that every cry echoes the prayer of the man at his wit’s end, and it is such prayers that pierce the heavens. When the soul is tossed beyond all orderly petition, when words tumble out in groans and repetitions born of agony, the Lord does not turn away; He gathers those broken syllables and lays them upon His heart. It is not the neatness of the plea but the desperateness of the faith that moves His hand.
Yet remember, the healing you seek is found in the leaves of the Tree of Life, the very leaves, the least things about Christ, carry virtue enough to restore what has been marred. Do not imagine that your case is too small or too stubborn, for the Sun of Righteousness rises with healing in His wings, and not even the pale shadows beneath your eyes are beyond the reach of His beam. The Saviour who touched the leper and smoothed the palsied limbs can with a word banish every spot and mark, making the face fairer than any earthly skill could achieve. But do not let your faith rest in the bare removal of the outward sign; seek first the pardon that makes the inward man whole. The true healing is that which Christ spoke to the palsied: “Son, be of good cheer; thy sins be forgiven thee.” When the guilt is gone, the corruption of the flesh loses its dominion, and the Lord becomes your Jehovah‑Rophi, the God who heals you wholly.
Spread your case before Him with all the arguments you can muster, as Jacob wrestled until daybreak, saying, “Thou saidst, I will surely do thee good.” Plead His promises, His character, His covenant. Use the best means you can with your physician and your own care, doing what wisdom dictates, and then fall back upon Him as if you had done nothing at all. Do not let any delay or past disappointment suggest that prayer has failed, for that dark thought is a slander against the faithfulness of God. If the answer tarries, let it drive you closer, not away; the closet is no place to forsake but the very spot where the dew of mercy will at last descend.
Come, then, with your maimed hand of faith and your limping hope, just as you are, to the teaching of His Word, for it is in that healing atmosphere that divine power is most present. Christ is here, ready to make all things new. Cry to Him, “Lord, if Thou wilt, Thou canst make me clean,” and hear Him answer, “I will; be thou clean.” Lay hold of that word and never let it go. The leaves of the tree are for your healing, and the least touch of His grace can do what all the anxieties of the night cannot. May the Lord lift up the light of His countenance upon you, and may every trace of your affliction vanish like the mist before the morning sun.