Physical healing – it was a recurring theme throughout the World Race, and one I had always struggled with.
I prayed over dozens of people in Mozambique and saw nothing happen. Then I went to India and watched my teammates pray over hundreds at medical clinics, where deaf ears opened, cataracts cleared, and broken bodies stood up straight and walked away. Months later in Guatemala I watched a woman on death’s door, ready to be admitted to a hospital for end of life care after a stroke, go home with no damage and no signs of said stroke.
Yet I still couldn’t buy in completely, and to give you some perspective of how much of a cynic I am, I had even experienced physical healing in my own body. For over eight years I had been plagued by an old sports injury to my right knee, and the travel and movement of the Race had caused me significant pain during the first two months. I asked a squadmate to pray with me, and by the middle of month three, a month where I walked at least two miles a day on dirt paths, I was pain free.
Now let me bring you to this week, where I’m at Project Searchlight, a re-entry conference of sorts for returning World Racers. During the first 48 hours of the event I had already received all kinds of wisdom and strategy for the next steps of life, but I had no idea what was to come during our evening session on the third day.
Clint, the guy running the session, invited anyone who needed -you guessed it – physical healing to raise their hand. The rest of us in the room were to then go and pray over those people.
This is where I froze. I still wasn’t sure what I believed about healing – I’ve never doubted that God can heal, but whether or not he will is entirely another story. I felt unworthy and unsuited to be praying for something I wasn’t sure I believed would happen.
So I sat down against the wall in my confusion and wondered what to do next. Then, my entire face began to throb with intense pain. I realized that, why yes, I still needed physical healing too. For about six years I’ve had TMJ disorder, which is a condition where my jaw doesn’t fit into the joint properly. It pops out of place when I eat, talk, sing, or do much else. It’s always present, but not always detrimental to my daily live. But when it flares up like it did then, it’s bad.
But I figured I had missed my opportunity, so I kept sitting there.
Until, for lack of a better word, the Holy Spirit lit a fire under my butt and brought me to my feet. I walked forward like a soldier into battle but once again hesitated at the prayer groups. Did I really believe? Could I? I didn’t think I could, so I turned around and started to walk back to my place by the wall.
And that’s when my squadmate Keighty, who has the spiritual gift of calling people on their BS with just a look, pulled me aside an asked me what I needed. I wasn’t about to lie with “nothing,” so I told her about my jaw and my doubts related to healing. Without hesitation, she asked if I wanted prayer, and that’s when something began to churn like ocean water in the depths of my soul.
“God, are you going to heal my jaw tonight?”
I dramatically take off my baseball cap and throw it down. “I’m done being cynical. Let’s roll.”
“You’re going to heal my jaw tonight, aren’t you?”
So Keighty and a few others begin to pray. Others join the group, and suddenly, as their hands are all over my face, I begin to feel the pain subside. Gingerly, I open and close my mouth to test it out.
“We have improvement – keep going!”
So we keep going, and underneath Keighty’s hand I feel warmth spread from where she’s touching me to the entire left side of my face. Something happens in that crucial spot just below my ear where the TMJ (tempromandibular joint) meets the skull.
“Oh my God, you’re going to heal my jaw tonight.”
I test the waters again, and the left side feels different. Like the pieces fit together again. I open my mouth again and there is no popping, no cracking, no pain on the left. I nearly keeled over from the shock but the group keeps praying, and we don’t stop until we have to leave the room. By that time, all that was left was the joint on the right side, but although it wasn’t perfect yet, the sounds and sensations had gone from multiple “snap, crackle, pops” if you will, but just one single small pop. The best it’s felt in years.
I will admit, I was a little disappointed to have not received complete and total healing in that moment. After all, for the first time in my life, I had believed that God not only could, but would heal.
Wait. Hold on. Wait a minute.
“After all, for the first time in my life, I had believed that God not only could, but would heal.
And that’s nothing short of amazing. Huge. This roadblock that’s been there throughout my entire walk with God. That night, he had not only cut my chronic pain down to half of what it was, but stripped away my doubt as well.
This story isn’t over yet. He will finish what he’s started.
