She had one mission. If she could just get close enough, it would work. She believed all the rumors and stories about how this man could heal the sick and wounded. She had even heard that he raised people from the dead. If this was all true, then he could heal her. She had struggled with this affliction for years. Nothing had worked. This was her only hope.
She made her way through the crowd, trying not to be noticed. She tried not to lose sight of her intended target. Finally, she was close enough. And with all the faith she could muster, she reached out and touched his robe.
The man knew something had happened. He turned to face her. Instead of rebuking her for getting too close, he looked her in the eyes and gently said, “Take heart, daughter,” he said, “your faith has healed you.” (Mark 5:25-34).
Back to Houston
I’m wrapping up another trip to Houston. Yesterday was a whirlwind of tests and appointments, including yet another bone marrow biopsy. I won’t have the results for several days. I also had labs and a pulmonary function test (PFT) to see how the GVHD has affected my lungs.
My labs were good for someone who recently had chemotherapy. The results of my PFT, unfortunately, were not so encouraging. There is no significant improvement since my last test six weeks ago. This has my doctors, and me, concerned. It’s even possible that the damage could be permanent. So much for running that marathon next year, huh?
To combat the GVHD, I am resuming a regimen of steroids. I haven’t taken steroids for nearly two months and loathe taking them again, but this is what is necessary. At least they should help my appetite. It would be nice to enjoy eating again.
The good news is that I don’t have to return to Houston for three months. I’ll be treated locally at the University of Kentucky in the interim. I’m scheduled for another round of chemotherapy in two weeks. The saga continues…
Faith that Heals
I’ve thought a lot lately about the woman being healed by touching Jesus’ robe. If only I could, somehow, get a glimpse of him. I don’t think I would be as subtle as the woman. Rather I think I would run and grab two handfuls of his robe, begging for healing.
But there really isn’t anything magical about the robe, is there? When Jesus responded to the woman, he said that it was her faith that healed her. It was her belief that Jesus is who he says he is, that he is the Son of God. She didn’t’ equivocate, asking Lord, heal me, if you can. No, she knew.
Sometimes my belief waivers—not in who God is but if He really plans to heal me. I never doubt that He can, just whether or not He will. Repeated bad news and seemingly endless treatment make me weary. Forgive me, I’m human.
But when I consider what He has done during the last year and a half and how He has spoken to me through others, then my belief is again bolstered that I’ll be completely healed. God’s promises don’t change just because my mood does. I am confident that He will see through what he started. Still, I long to touch his robe.
I tell you, you can pray for anything, and if you believe that you’ve received it, it will be yours. (Mark 11:24 NLT)