Lenten Reflection for April 9

Something inside me always cheers when I read the Bible story of the woman with an “Issue of Blood.” I am always taken by her suffering and her brave determination to reach the healing man and touch just the hem of his clothes. It has some mysterious elements to it, all right. I mean how could Jesus not know who it was who touched him? But he didn’t. Then, the loving tenderness of the Healer’s address to the newly healed woman calling her “Daughter.” An amazing account found in Matt. Mark and Luke.

Yet, I have no clue as to the help of the crowd. Did they help, I mean? Dr. Stone leads us to ask and examine healing and healthy communities vs communities that are driven to see results or perhaps barely tolerate those who by physical, chronological, emotional or mental disability are different. How can we be healing as community? How do we share pain?

My sample is of a very small community - some family and a few neighbors who were willing to learn about real healing. I was maybe 17 when an uncle came home from a tough surgery. He lost most of a lung from cancer. The men in the family were smokers, including my dad. Dad’s older brother came home, and some of us were caring for him until he was “better.” We took turns to be at his house. There were good directions for physical needs, meds, meals, other needs including, for a while, “changing.” I wanted to help, and did, but uncle and I didn’t connect at all. None of us did really. It was all business. No conversations or long prayers, out of the bedroom, and back to my TV.

I only share my story, but I knew later that it was a family learning. Uncle was home about a week, when one night he asked me to remain a while after dinner, and get him a book from a higher shelf. It looked like a photo album. I got it, and sat on the corner of the bed, feeling I could panic at any moment. He sat up and opened it. It was all I feared. Great pics of him, all of us, all of his family, basketball nights, picnics, baptisms and more, each with its own story. I tried not to cry, tears came anyway, he noticed and said, “I didn’t want to make you cry. Honey, whatever happens to me, I love you, I love you all." I breathed, squeezed his hand, we actually prayed, and then talked, really talked.

It was a long time later, with most of us in one place after the funeral, when we shared the sort of miracle of learning. None of us knew about healing or health until very sick man opened a holy book about love. I pray we live into a healing, love filled Lent.

Dr. Stone will teach you more. 

Have you ever learned something that humanized others to you, maybe humanized you? How do your thoughts about age, illness, and the ability to function in society shape your prayers for the aged or those with long-term illness? If you have ever cared for someone that you suspected might no recover, did that suspicion change how you related to him or her?