Wanting the miracle, missing the more

I grew up in the country. We watched the sun set while playing a family game of softball in the front yard as Mom cooked dinner. We spent most of our time roaming around our family’s land in our bare feet. The bottoms of our feet were so calloused during the summer that we could run on the sharp rocks in our driveway without even noticing. (We all had plenty of pairs of shoes, but who could be bothered to put them on in our haste to begin our outdoor fun?)

We rolled down hills and ran through fields and climbed in creeks and made up stories galore down at the pond. We rode our bikes all day and came inside to the smell of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies. When we sank into bed at night, clean from our showers, fun-exhausted from a day of activity, we fell asleep with tomorrow’s adventures on our minds.

This was our rural mindset:  sunshine and activity and enjoying God’s creation were all essential for growth. One thing you need to know about those of us who live in or grew up in the country:  we like to let things run their course rather than racing to the doctor for every ache and pain. 

Occasionally, we would go to my dad and complain, “My toe hurts when I bend it.” His response? “Well, don’t bend it.” We laugh at this today, how often we would hear this as kids, and we would kinda cut our eyes at Dad, but then we’d go on and play. And our toe, it turns out, really was absolutely fine. 

My siblings and I tell our own kids this all the time now, and they, too, find it both amusing and often helpful; for many times, simply resting a toe or a foot or an arm – whatever hurts – does the job. But then there are times when you really do need help from a doctor. 

Last June, after limping around for seven months, sometimes in quite a bit of pain, I gave in and went to see a knee specialist. I had been told it was probably a sprain by a general practitioner a few months earlier, but after it just wasn’t getting any better, I made an appointment with a specialist. 

Here’s what I thought would happen:  I would finally find answers. I would get medicine or a boot for my left leg, and things would get back to normal for me. 

Here’s what actually happened:  The doctor could only imagine what had caused it, but he diagnosed me with muscle atrophy in my left leg. He couldn’t believe how atrophied my left quads and calf were. That leg was inches smaller than my right one. No wonder I couldn’t walk without just dragging that leg! 

The prescription:  Physical therapy. The phrase “long-term injury” was bandied about, which was particularly unsettling. Apparently one can lose muscle mass way more quickly than one can gain it back (thus the “long-term injury”). 

Where I am today:  Having completed the prescribed physical therapy back in September, I have been and continue to do therapy on equipment at the gym, as well as training myself how to walk properly again. 

It’s been a long, hard road, and I am still working on it. I have not yet arrived at 100 percent. But I share all of this because when I went to that specialist, I expected that all would be well within a few weeks. I did not expect for the cure to involve me working the injured area for days, weeks, months on end. I wasn’t thrilled to know that my journey to healing was really just beginning. 

I had prayed for healing and knew that God could just make me whole and fix whatever was broken (He is still the only One who knows what caused all of this). But I imagine God had other plans, other things He wanted to show me and teach me through these past 14 months and counting. 

I am reading through the book of Acts, and I have been so encouraged by two stories, one found in Acts 3 and the other in Acts 8. In Acts 3, we are introduced to a lame man begging for money at the gate of the temple. His friends carry him there every day so he can beg for money to survive. On this particular day, Peter and John come by and hear this man asking for money.

At this point, those of you who were raised in the church are probably beginning to hum that song we used to sing, Peter and John went to pray. They met a lame man on the way. He stuck out his palms and asked for alms, and this is what Peter did say, “Silver and gold have I none, but such as I have give I thee, in the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, rise up and walk!”

(And now that tune is stuck in your heads, as it has been in my mind for days. You’re welcome.)

Here are a few thoughts I had while reading this story this time around:  Had this man given up asking for healing? How many times had he asked to be healed before and yet been disappointed? Had he given up on what he really wanted – to walk – and resigned himself to only asking for what he knew others could give him – money?

Peter, through the power of God, gave him healing. This far surpassed what he had been asking for. Anyone could give him money, but so far, no one had been able to give him the gift of walking. And my favorite part of both the story and the song we used to sing:  He went walking and leaping and praising God, walking and leaping and praising God. In the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, rise up and walk!

But as much as I love this miracle, it was merely the beginning of something so much bigger, for it opened the door for Peter and John to tell the people gathered there about Jesus. The miracle was awesome, but it served to introduce a cause, a truth so much bigger – salvation through Jesus.

The next story, this one in Acts 8, is the fascinating tale of Simon the magician. Simon is enthralled with the manifestation of the gift of the Holy Spirit. He wants the Holy Spirit’s power for himself so much that he offers Peter and John money. You can imagine how Peter responds to this idea of buying the Holy Spirit.

But Peter said to him, “May your silver perish with you, because you thought you could obtain the gift of God with money! You have neither part nor lot in this matter, for your heart is not right before God. Repent, therefore, of this wickedness of yours, and pray to the Lord that, if possible, the intent of your heart may be forgiven you. For I see that you are in the gall of bitterness and in the bond of iniquity” (Acts 8:20-23).

So here we have Simon the magician, who is only interested in being able to perform miracles or have power, totally missing the truth that the power of God as demonstrated in miracles was merely the beginning, the opening act that led to an understanding of something so much bigger and greater – the gospel of Jesus Christ that leads to salvation!

Particularly when we feel like our weaknesses are so strong or even insurmountable at times, we seek the miracle, the healing, the strength we so crave. And that’s not wrong. We know God heals; and knowing that He always knows exactly what is going on in our bodies, even when no one else does, is exceedingly comforting to me. He is able to right whatever is wrong, regardless of anyone else’s opinion about our situation.

Being able to walk with strength and speed is such a gift, and it’s still my prayer (and what I am actively working toward every day), but what treasures may be hidden in my hobbling moments that God wants me to unearth? What might I be missing that’s worth more than perfectly working legs? What can I learn, how can I grow while I’m healing?

Whatever it is, I don’t want to miss it. I don’t want miss the more behind the miracle. Because I know it’s there – that bigger, greater thing that will serve God’s purposes. Until then, I am walking (slowly), definitely not leaping, but I will certainly be praising God.