Duhhhh. Right? Of course he wanted to be healed. Who wouldn't after a lifetime of a crippling disease? Who wouldn't want to walk again? Who wouldn't want to not be sick? In the end, Jesus heals him and he goes on his merry way.
I recently read this story with a Bible study that I attend and our discussion leader brought up an interesting point: What did healing mean for this man? Because the moment Jesus healed him, his life was never the same. All he knew how to do was to be sick, lay by a magic pool, and rely on the kindness of strangers to survive. But as an able bodied, perfectly healthy man, what changed? Did he get a job, have a family, travel, go to school, learn a trade, accomplish the things he had always dreamed of, and do the things he never could because of his illness?
If I were given this same choice, what would change for me? What does a healthy Stacie do? I think a healthy Stacie would take more risks. She would stay out later. She would eat more ice cream. She wouldn't take almost 100 pills a week. She would travel, oh she would travel: to Arizona, Washington, Iowa, Colorado, Alaska, Mexico, Costa Rica, Paris, London, Spain, Africa; she would see the world. A healthy Stacie would get married without the fear of health concerns, money to pay for medications, and the fear of a pregnancy that could kill her. She would have babies - three, and then adopt two more; because she has a lot of love to share. She would live.
But if Jesus himself asked me, "Do you, Stacie, want to get well?" what would I say? Would I drop the life I know and love for one that appears to be full of promise and health? What would my new life bring? Would I forget all the turmoil I have been through, all the pain I have felt, all the tears I have cried? Would I forget the fatigue, the chronic pain, the ER visits, the nausea, the needles, the tests, the loud MRIs, the cold stickers on my chest, the wooshing of my heart on the echo machine, the prayers sent up for healing? What would become of all that I have lived so far? Would I be a story of hope or would I take for granted my new found health?
Even if Jesus himself asked me this question, I don't know that I could say yes.
Despite the pain, the medications, the fatigue, the nausea, the popping and aching joints, the blown ligaments, the heating pads, the ice packs, the constant sickness, the ER visits, the bi-monthly doctor appointments, the sadness, and the tearful prayers, I love the life I have been blessed with. I have a wonderful family, supportive friends, the intelligence and ambition to go to school, the ability to have a part time job, multiple Bible studies to attend and learn a lot at, amazing Christians surrounding me in encouragement and prayer, love, laughter, happiness, and an all-powerful, merciful, compassionate Heavenly Father.
My illness gives me a unique perspective on life: thankfulness for each day that I wake up, appreciation for every moment with low pain, a love for life, a desire to do my best at everything I am able to do, a longing to share love with those around me, constant awe over medical innovations, a hope for my future, and the comfort that I am right where I am supposed to be.
I used to pray for physical healing. In the last year or so, I have stopped, and instead now pray for peace of heart and mind, patience to deal with my struggles, and a desire to never give up. It's not that I don't believe God can heal me; I know He is more than able. It's just that I don't know that He will. This is the life I have been given. Things can get better, things can change, but struggles may never fully disappear. God must think that I have something to gain through my illness and something to share through my struggles.
And so unless He decides, in His time, to make me well, I won't be wasting mine wishing my less than healthy days away. This is my life and I will embrace it.
