tradition for healing

Jesus heals. Let it sink, folks.

A couple of days ago I was on a long road trip when the Lord decided to do a little somethin'. Actually, it took He and I together to do it.

I was stopped in a very small town, at a store I like to go into on a long road trip I frequently make. Right by where I'd parked was a fallen section of fence, probably about 10 boards of wood sectioned together. There was also one board that was separated from the section laying on the ground a few feet away.

I went into the store and got a few things, headed back to the car. No big deal.

As I got to within 15 feet of the car I noted the section on the ground. It was probably about six feet from my car.

I saw the big section of fence, but had forgotten about the lone board piece off to the side. Yeah, big mistake. Huge.

As I walked toward my car, looking at the section of fence, I discovered I hadn't made a mental note of that lone piece of wood as I felt a nail entering the bottom of my left foot like a syringe.

I felt the pain of the impaling nail quite strongly. Felt it entering and going up into my foot.

My first thought was "I remembered that board beforehand, but why didn't I see it when coming back to the car?"

Then I did the obvious thing. Looked on the board and see what I had stepped on.

Sure enough, the nail was as rusty as you can get. Jutted out from the board about three-quarters of an inch to an inch.

My first thought was "Crap. Definitely rusty."

For the next couple of seconds my mind swirled. "over 700 miles from home. Rusty nail. Tetanus shot. What to do next. No hospital nearby. Should I go to one? I should. This is an unexpected thing, but I have time to do that. I should do that."

These thoughts were then smashed by an overriding thought.

Paul and the viper that bit him.

This thought roared from within my spirit into my mind.

Now, at that point a mental battle could have ensued, but it did not.

I could have sat there and played some form of mental justification game, but I did not. As soon as I thought of Paul and the viper, I latched onto it like a bulldog's jaw and did not let go.

"Lord, I said, I am looking to You in this. I have no other choice. It's as if I'm out in the middle of nowhere. I have no options, except You. You are my only option."

I continued this prayer/pondering as I drove shortly to a gas station nearby. My foot was stinging, and whatever else feet do when a dirty 3/4 inch nail goes up in your foot.

I went into the station, and the entire time I was talking to the Lord about it.

As I exited the gas station another something came to mind.

It was a line from an old hymn. A hymn I haven't even thought of in I can't even remember how long. Years. Many years.

When the words came to mind, I half-sung/half-spoke the words out loud. "Standing on the promises of Christ my King."

I was going to sing/say the rest of that chorus, but something happened.

As soon as I said those words, something happened in my foot.

Suddenly, drastically--boom--my foot felt noticeably different. Undeniably and certainly different.

So strong was the difference I instantly knew nothing else would be necessary with regard to my foot.

And herein lies one of the reasons the Lord does so little in America. We have too many options. So many man-made inventions. Man-made progress.

Let's be real honest here, we generally only go to God when it's serious stuff, life-threatening. I'm not knocking manmade things in all circumstances, I'm saying God is an afterthought for us an awful lot unless it's horrific.

And let's be dead honest, how often do we cling to the Lord for the non-crises in our lives? Really, how often?

This ties into one of my ongoing frustrations, which is very obvious throughout this blog. It frustrates me how much we underlive the jaw-dropping, inexplicable power through Jesus and the Holy Ghost. That's its own post for another time.

Anyway, to close with this. I could not help but laugh at the Lord for using the words to an old hymnal as part of this miracle. He knows how strong my aversion is toward "traditional" churching.

And He puts a traditional hymn in my spirit, and when I vocalized the words to it He moves.

Here I am now, five days after the incident. Never any swelling. Never any irritation. No infection. Just a faint pink flesh color where the nail entered in.

He heals, folks.