I believe that Jesus is Healer! I believe He has the power to instantly heal any hurt. I believe He performs miracles daily, incredible miracles of physical and emotional healing.
 
I went into training camp recovering from a broken ankle. Limping. Lacking strength and mobility. Swelling. Plates and screws everywhere. Throughout the week, my squad-mates, leaders, and I prayed for healing; with earnest intercession, passionate hope, unbridled expectation. My ankle was not healed.
 
One of my favorite statements at Training Camp was “many people have either a good theology about healing OR a good theology about pain, but not both.” This is so true. God is equal parts Healer and Comforter.
 
I think that we can sometimes get too caught up in the excitement of healing, and we forget that Christ asks us to share in his
sufferings, as well as His glory (Romans 8). Paul, for example, earnestly prays for the healing of that thorn in his side, but Jesus whispers that His grace is enough, “for my power is made perfect in your weakness” (2 Corinthians 12:9).  Romans 5 goes so far as to suggest that we “glory in our sufferings” because suffering produces character, etc. James says to “consider it pure joy when you face trials of many kinds, because the testing of your faith produces perseverance” (James 1:2-3).
 
The worry I have is that we will not know how to worship in our sufferings, because worship is what this thing is all about. And we worship because God is love, He is good, He is always Perfect. The reason my theology about healing is dangerous is because I get it. It makes sense to me, it is incredible, it is awesome. But the Goodness of God reaches light years beyond my understanding. As much as Holy Spirit healing sometimes feels like God outside of the box, if we do not allow for sufferings, it is just putting God in a bigger box. A box hemmed in by my understanding, my experience, my ability to perceive and appreciate His Goodness.
 
Suffering sucks. I don’t get it. It is painful and makes no sense to me. Yet, Scripture asks me to rejoice in it. Not to fight it (we fight evil, not pain – more on that later), but to consider it pure joy. Total oxymoron. Job says it this way: “Shall we accept the good from God and not the trouble?” (2:10). That is a hard word to hear. So is this: “Trust in the Lord with ALL your heart and lean NOT on your own understanding” (Proverbs 3:5). My “understanding” can easily rejoice in healing and quickly dismiss pain as having no place in my spirit. But my King asks me to worship Him in all things, in spite of my ability to comprehend.
 
My ankle was not healed at Training Camp. Why? Did the healing “fail” or, did God desire to show up in the midst of suffering? Because He certainly showed up. Some of the greatest moments of worship I experienced at TC were the result of an ankle not healed. And maybe God is reserving healing for a specific time and place, maybe my faith in His Healing was not strong enough. But I, for one, believe that God is Perfect in my weakness, in my suffering. That He manifests Himself in my pain. And whether my ankle is healed or not, God is God. Whether I understand what in the world is going on or not, God is love. Whether He shows up as Healer or Comforter, I want to worship my God for all that He is, ALL THE TIME.
 
One of my awesome teammates and I were texting a few days ago, talking about healing and the power of the Holy Spirit. We were talking about wanting ALL of who God is, to know Him to the very depths of possibility. To worship Him for all that He is and discover and acknowledge Him beyond the limitations of our experience and expectation. One of my fears for the Race is that we go into a home on Tuesday and witness a super natural healing. Of course, we would be ecstatic, writing blogs, crying in awe, leaping with Joy. And then on Thursday, have a team member get malaria, and we forget how to worship God. In my years as a minister, I have sat with teens through miraculously joyful revelations and quietly devastating experiences. And God was at both. Quietly, but completely whispering His overwhelming Presence and Love. I want to be able to worship God in all things. Suffering hurts and healing brings joy. Hurt is agonizing and difficult. But I worship a God who is ever-present, ever-good, ever-worthy of my praise, in spite of my comfort and emotion.
 
I think the reason we struggle with pain is because we associate it with death. But there are two kinds of dying: the kind that hopes for life, like winter before Spring. The kind that produces perseverance, that informs our ability to live. The kind of pain that sharpens us, that makes us better, that allows us to be humble and leads to a better intimacy with Christ. The second is the kind that destroys. Evil. The kind that draws us away from God. Sin. Idolatry. This is the kind of death that God cannot be around, such as when Jesus takes on the sin of the world and cannot find His Father. This kind of dying is about heart and soul, not circumstance. It is about sin and separation from God. It is the kind of dying that produces dying in others, such as abuse. There is a kind of dying (suffering) that produces humble servants and brings people to the Kingdom of God, and there is a kind of dying (evil) in which Christ cannot possibly be found. We do not like either, both hurt, but only one destroys. With honest inspection, it is not hard to tell these two apart.
 
Suffering is not evil. It is Godly. It happened to Jesus and He calls us to rejoice in it, to find life in it, to worship in the midst of it. He calls us to take up our cross and follow Him. He calls us to die, so that we might find life. Just like “beauty” can either be talking about curves and suntans OR souls and sunrises, dying can be talking about suffering and longing OR evil and idolatry. A lot of my friends are heavy into the idea of our words having power and speaking “life” rather than “death.” I love this idea! I totally believe we have that power. But let’s not have a superficial view of dying. To speak “death” is to speak evil. Speaking earnestly, hopefully, and expectantly about pain is not the same thing as speaking “evil.” For example: speaking gossip or malice towards or about each other is evil. Speaking honestly about hurt and the potential for pain, is not speaking “death,” but speaking the hope of life, the honesty of imperfection. I believe God honors our prayers that come to Him as broken mystery as well as those that come as celebratory comprehension.
 
Thank you for lovingly hearing my thoughts on these things. God is always working on me (“Lord, I believe! Please help my unbelief!” – Mark 9:24) to know Him and His ways better.