THE HEALING COMES

Mending Verses, Mending Hopes C. Doug Blair, 2011

Sometimes, Strange Help

Oh, I could not touch the processAs you neared the Living Fire,As He pained and purified you,As He raised your standards higher.Though I heard your cries of quandary,And I saw your tears of shock;It was clear you were His project.(I refrained from soothing talk.)

There was only my prayer cornerWhere I dared to let it out.Where I got beneath your burden,First with moaning, then with shout.And His Spirit reassured meThis was how it had to be,

1

That you might receive your treasureAnd a gracious victory.

It must all be of His working,Measured out to challenged trust.Marvelous, such metallurgy!Making gold of baffled dust.Dare I frustrate such a Craftsman,As He works His glorious art?As He gives the form and purpose?As He re-creates the heart?

No, I could not, and I would not,For I had my times alone.When the arm of flesh was absentAnd I had to storm His throne.And the bounty from the battleSeems my richest gain to date,Which the Living Fire had purposedIn His mercy, as my fate.

Oh, I love you brother, love you,And it hurts so much to standAt the outskirts of your struggleClenching tight the helping hand.But the Master sits beside youAs your bark braves wind and wave;And the passage proves Him ableTo the uttermost to save.

2

Healing In His Rays

It hurt me fifteen years the same, And I thought that it would Continue to torment my life, And cripple me for good.

Oh, how I hoped the medicine Would gently ease the pain; But doctors told me not to hope Too hard, lest it remain.

Each morning, I would fear the sun Which called me from my bed. I wanted to stay safe and still, And nurse my pain instead.

I nursed the curse of memories Of aching wasted days, And thought that there was naught on earth To cause me joy or praise.

From time to time, some friend would come, And urge me to take heart; As if by some strange strength of mind, My symptoms would depart.

But nothing changed, and each new day, My heart sank deeper still. Experience and doubts and fears Had robbed all strength of will.

Then one spring day, my mail contained A letter from a friend, Which praised a risen, healing Christ Through whom my grief would end.

I read with hunger every page,

3

And scriptures she revealed About the Lamb of Calvary, ‘By whose stripes we were healed’!

Could this be true, such power still A witness to his love? Though Christ returned so long ago To streets of gold above?

A seed of faith had found my heart, As I craved more to hear How perfect love received from Christ Could always cast out fear.

And fear was where my problem lay, As time and time again, I had the sad experience Of fear preceding pain.

The Truth grew stronger than my hurts. The Devil was my foe; The source of my infirmity Which doctors did not know.

And Christ had died to liberate My spirit and my frame. How could I slight the precious gift Of healing in his name?

So by the power of God’s own Word, Replacing faith for fear, I grasped the passing robe of Christ And drew his virtue near.

I set the Bible by my bed And went to sleep assured… The sunlight kissed my pillowed head, To find me strong and cured!

4

1 PETER 2: 24 Who his own self bare our sins in his own body on the tree, that we, being dead to sin, should live unto righteousness: by whose stripes ye were healed.

MALACHI 4: 2 But unto you that fear my name shall the Sun of righteousness arise with healing in his wings; and ye shall go forth, and grow up as calves of the stall.

Malignancy

I can waste a bodyI can shatter dreamsI can raise my threat Through a thousand schemes.I can rob a homeI can stunt a lifeI can tear the bondOf a man and wife.I can pull the blindDown on hope or joyAnd the neighbours'talkI will oft' employ.I am given moreThan my powers are dueI just feed on fearAnd the schemes come true.I am named with aweIn the Hall of WasteI have Slewfoot's praiseSeen him face to face.I have often heard When their end is nighHow they doubt their God

5

How they curse the sky.But it troubles meThat a few gain powerAs they choose to smileIn my meanest hour.As they give loud thanksFor a life to dateAnd they lean on ChristFor tomorrow's fate.

Unwelcome One

I hit like Vesuvius.Greater emotional impactThan one's first love.Irrepressible as incoming tide.Washing over sand castles.I elicit self-doubt,Self-pity,

6

Self-centredness.I bring on red anger,Social awkwardness,Loner spirit.I humiliateWith damp blubber.Pluck the mournful strings,Belly-high.Drag up guilt for thingsNot said; not done;Not forgiven.I pilfer memories.And energy.I cause friends To keep distant,To stammer, To grow impatient.I haunt with faces,Gestures, music,Abandoned wardrobe.I roar At the phrase"Snap out of it."Cause men to doubtTheir manhood.Cause women to rememberApron strings, rockersAnd first school-days.I befuddle and Bring on mistakes,Inefficiencies.I slander GodAnd His kind.(For a time.)I tax prayerBeyond itself.

But I also cleanThe inner residues; Flush out the vitriol;

7

Relieve the inexplicable;Distill humble servant-spirit;Develop new-found audacities,Currencies, compassions.Evoke the dark night,That joy might Come in the morning.

I am Grief.

Nursing Touch

Another time Before shift's closeI'll check in On dear Fred.And give a smile.And squeeze the hand.And tuck him into bed.

His left arm limp;His left cheek drawn;His speech now Slow and odd.And few have come.And few have cared.Oh use me now, dear God.

A businessmanHe was 'til late.And numbers Ran his life.And midnight oilAnd corporate climbHad cost him home and wife.

8

Is he asleep?Though bedside lampIllumes the Quiet nook?The half-sipped juice.The handy-wipes.The dark blue Gideons' Book.

My first steps heard.He slowly turns.And just as Slowly grins.His good right handWipes back the tear:"I thought...you might drop in."

I touch his arm.I pull the sheet.I'm desperate For some word.The TestamentIs open yet,At Psalms, One hundred-third.

I take the Book,Approach the light,And sit besideMy friend.And one more timeRecite those wordsOf mercy without end.

Of God who knows Our darkest trait,Our hardest Pain to bear.But still forgivesThat we might liveForever in His care.

9

I click the lamp.I must withdraw.His breathingNow is slow.Sweet dreams, my friend.This too will end.The Father loves you so.

Perfect Vision

In my mind’s eye I shall never forgetThat sabbath when Jesus healed me.Begging and lonely, I heard a kind voicePromising that I might see.

10

Others had talked of the cause of my plight,Was it the price of some sinning?Jesus seemed eager to set me aright;In him I’d find new beginning.

He declared that he was light to the world,As he applied a clay poultice;Sending me off to a pool to be washedFearless that rabbis might notice.

Off came the dark scales and in came the light,Who was this marvelous healer?Rabbis were fixing to give me a fight:“I must renounce this scene- stealer.”

Both of my parents were called in to sayIf I were really born blind.Each of them sadly turned from me that day,Fearful that church-folk would mind.

“Surely a man who would break sabbath lawsWorking, albeit in mercy,Works for the devil with no righteous cause!”“How is it then that I see?”

Quickly they parceled me out of the church:“How dare you test our tradition!We hold to Moses’ law, and that alone.We strongly doubt your new vision.

Out on the street then I met a young manWho asked if I knew the Saviour.That voice! Was Jesus! I clutched at his hand,Thanking him for his great favour.

I knew that I had gained more than just sight,Trusting the Lord and his new ways.Blinder the ones who persistently fightComing to Christ in these last days!

11

Let them attend to their rituals at church,Chanting hymns ever so sweet.I had befriended the one Son of God ,Worshipping him in the street!

Almost Home

A Wednesday afternoon. Keith ran the stairs two at a time to the fourth floor. He knew the service door push-button combination. No time for the elevator. Stewart and Krista were already there and Nurse Katie, senior woman in George Cromarty's wing. There was evidence that the Doctor had just left.

"Hi guys, when did it happen?"

Stewart turned slowly from his uncle, "About 9:45. Katie was the first one to know."

The nurse put her hand on Keith's shoulder. "He had had a good breakfast. Shared some laughter with one of the newer residents. A volunteer wheeled him back and all seemed OK. I got a ring at the desk an hour later. He was all smiles. Told me that we hadn't had our mid-week "chin-wag". Told me a bit about what is going on at the Church, Keith.

Then he reached over to the side table for his Bible and handed it to me. Asked me to open it where the paper clip was, and to start reading at the 6th verse through the 19th. There, Stewart the Book is right beside you. It was Psalm 34, I think. 'Scuse me, I'm not quite up on these things any more. The stroke musta' been within the half hour after I left."

Stewart took the Bible, faced his uncle again, tried to focus on the one moist eye still where it was supposed to be, and read to the silent Scot:

6This poor man cried, and the LORD heard him, and saved him out of all his troubles.

12

7The angel of the LORD encampeth round about them that fear him, and delivereth them.

8O taste and see that the LORD is good: blessed is the man that trusteth in him.

9O fear the LORD, ye his saints: for there is no want to them that fear him.

10The young lions do lack, and suffer hunger: but they that seek the LORD shall not want any good thing.

11Come, ye children, hearken unto me: I will teach you the fear of the LORD.

12What man is he that desireth life, and loveth many days, that he may see good?

13Keep thy tongue from evil, and thy lips from speaking guile.

14Depart from evil, and do good; seek peace, and pursue it.

15The eyes of the LORD are upon the righteous, and his ears are open unto their cry.

16The face of the LORD is against them that do evil, to cut off the remembrance of them from the earth.

17The righteous cry, and the LORD heareth, and delivereth them out of all their troubles.

18The LORD is nigh unto them that are of a broken heart; and saveth such as be of a contrite spirit.

19Many are the afflictions of the righteous: but the LORD delivereth him out of them all.

Krista was holding George's good hand. He slowly withdrew it and displayed his first two fingers. Krista looked puzzled, "Two, the number two. Do you want us to continue with the second Psalm George?"

13

A queer acknowledging smile was made by the good side of the face. Things continued in this fashion for another ten minutes and then the old boy's eyes closed in sleep, one at a time. Others in the room huddled closer, and hugged silently.

Katie had remained throughout like a loving sentinel. No one had called for her over the P.A.

In His Compassion

(Taken from Like Christ by Andrew Murray)

Compassion is the spirit of love which is awakened by the sight of need or wretchedness. What abundant occasion is there every day for the practice of this heavenly virtue, and what a need of it in a world so full of misery and sin! Every Christian ought therefore by prayer and practice to cultivate a compassionate heart, as one of the most precious marks of likeness to the blessed Master. Everlasting love longs to give itself to a perishing world, and to find its satisfaction in saving the lost. It seeks for vessels which it may fill with the love of God, and send out among the dying that they may drink and live for ever. It asks hearts to fill with its own tender compassion at the sight of all the need in which sinners live, hearts that will reckon it their highest blessedness, as the dispensers of God’s compassion, to live entirely to bless and save sinners. O my brother, the everlasting compassion which has had mercy on thee calls thee, as one who has obtained mercy, to come and let it fill thee. It will fit thee, in thy compassion on all around, to be a witness to God’s compassionate love.

The opportunity for showing compassion we have all around us. How much there is of temporal want! There are the poor and the sick, widows and orphans, distressed and despondent souls, who need nothing so much as the refreshment a compassionate heart can bring. They live in the midst ot Christians, and sometimes complain that it is as if there are children of the world who have more sympathy than those who are only concerned about

14

their own salvation. O brothers, pray earnestly for a compassionate heart, always on the look-out for an opportunity of doing some work of love, always ready to be an instrument of the divine compassion. It was the compassionate sympathy of Jesus that attracted so many to Him upon earth; that same compassionate tenderness will still, more than anything, draw souls to you and to your Lord. [*See Note.]

And how much of spiritual misery surrounds us on all sides! Here is a poor rich man. There is a foolish, thoughtless youth. There is again a poor drunkard, or a hopeless unfortunate. Or perhaps none of these, but simply people entirely wrapt up in the follies of the world which surround them. How often are words of unloving indifference, or harsh judgment, or slothful hopelessness, heard concerning all these! The compassionate heart is wanting. Compassion looks upon the deepest misery as the place prepared for her by God, and is attacted by it. Compassion never wearies, never gives up hope. Compassion will not allow itself to be rejected, for it is the self-denying love of Christ which inspires it.

The Christian does not confine his compassion to his own circle: he has a large heart. His Lord has shown him the whole heathen world as his field of labour. He seeks to be acquainted with the circumstances of the heathen: he carries their burden on his heart; he is really moved with compassion, and means to help them. Whether the heathenism is near or far off, whether he witnesses it in all its filth and degradation, or only hears of it, compassionate love lives only to accomplish God’s will in saving the perishing.

15