Remarkable Assurance

The woman was small, with soft, wrinkled skin browned by decades of being tanned by the Nicaraguan sun. She had seen us walking around her neighborhood and asked for prayer. I forget her name. But there she was, sitting in the doorway of her sheet-metal house next to her husband. “I have breast cancer,” she said. “I have had it for about a year, but I have stopped going to doctors.” “Why,” we ask, “would you stop going to the doctor?” I guess I expected her to say that she was too poor, since that is what her impoverished circumstances indicated. “I trust that the Lord will heal me,” She responded simply. And we stood in awe of her faith. Her eyes glistened, they were joyful and bright brown, the color of warm honey. 

Thousands of years ago, there was a woman with a bleeding problem. She had been bleeding for twelve years, and had spent all she had on medicine and doctors and remedies that just weren’t working. She was absolutely destitute with no one to go to or hope in. But she had heard of a man named Jesus, Who had a spirit of power and prophecy, One who could make the lame walk, the blind see, and the demon-possessed free. So, wrapping herself in her garment, she ventured into the streets, hoping not to be recognized for her uncleanliness. There He was. Tripping over herself, she pushed herself through the crowd to reach Him, knowing that this man, if He was a man, was her only hope. Crowds pressed all around her, but she kept her eyes on His cloak, knowing that if only she touched the fabric that hung off the body of this man, that she would be healed. She reached out and touched it, immediately feeling the effect of freedom on her weary body. This sickness was no longer her master. Jesus sought for her, knowing that power had gone out of Him. She trembled, afraid of retribution. “All I wanted was to be healed,” she thought, “Did I do it wrong?” And falling at His feet, she confessed. “Daughter,” Jesus said, “Your faith has made you well; go in peace.” She had come searching for physical healing, and that she received, but the greater reward was the recognition of her faith by her Savior. (Story derived from Mark 5:21-34)

I believe that faith itself is a miracle. Through what idiocy does man believe in things that they cannot see? And why would we trust a promise we have not received? Because humans are so quick to break trust, we are slow to trust others, and slower to trust God. But God is not like us. He does not lie, He does not fail, and He does not forget what He has promised. Hebrews 11:1 says, “Faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen.” Faith is believing that God is Who He says He is, and that He will do what He says He will do, despite what we see with our eyes. Faith is acting like everything that you hope for will come to pass, because you are irrevocably convinced of the character of God. It is reaching out your hand to touch His garment because you are so assured by His love for you that you are willing to act on it. Would the woman I met be so faithful if she believed that the Lord had the power to heal her, but continued her visits to the doctor? Would the woman in the Bible be praised for her faith if she had stayed at home, believing that Jesus could fix her if He wanted? Doesn’t James 2:17 say that faith without works is dead? Faith without active obedience is a lie. 

I’m not saying that everyone with breast cancer should stop going to the doctor. But we should remember that it is the Lord who gives medicine power to heal. He is the One Who has grown the plants, organized the science, and the One in Whom all things hold together. He created the medicine in the first place, so He can heal without it. Yet we still grab for control over our lives, not always in medicine, but in human remedies to our problems. The God Who holds the whole world has you firmly in His grip. His garment is within your grasp. Reach out your hand faithfully, knowing that He has the power to heal. And you will witness a miracle, not from the physical outcome, but the remarkable assurance in your heart of things not seen.