I am the Lord, that healeth thee. (Exodus 15:26 NASB)

A sparrow lands on the tube feeder hanging by the sliding glass door. With winter’s early arrival, we’re keeping an eye on our feathered visitors. It’s Thanksgiving, time to thank God for these small creatures and for all things that land in our lives.

The Gazette is on my thank-you list, for the space to tell my story, and I’m grateful to my friends and readers for lifting my spirits –it’s awesome connecting with you. We’re bound together as fragile humans, celebrating our victories and grieving our losses, however we vary in our views on life.

With that, here’s a faith alert: While the world hangs greens for Christmas, I’m zooming in on Jesus, my healer. Hope operates outside the boundaries of the natural world, giving me the humble boldness to rest in God as my ultimate source of healing and wholeness.

And hey, I totally get that this may raise eyebrows and questions. We doubt if prayer matters because we’ve prayed and not received the answers we wanted. But we don’t know how often prayer did change things. Locking doubt out in the cold, I’m concentrating on healing Scriptures as I prepare for the Christ Child.

F. F. Bosworth’s Christ the Healer is my Advent guide. Psalm 107:20 says God sent His Word to heal and rescue us from death’s door. Bosworth said our job is to plant seeds of faith by believing Scripture. God’s job is helping what we plant to grow. A farmer plants, the Creator transforms seeds into thriving plants and later the farmer harvests the crop. It’s a partnership based on the laws of nature.

By New Year’s, I hope we have blossoms of healing hope.

As I’ve sought a peace stronger than cancer, I came upon Proverbs 4:20-22, 25 (NASB), which offers nothing less than life itself:

Incline your ear to my sayings.

Do not let them depart from your sight;

Keep them in the midst of your heart.

For they are LIFE to those who find them,

And HEALTH to their whole body.

…Let your eyes look directly ahead,

And let your gaze be fixed, straight in front of you. (Emphasis mine.)

What is my gaze fixed upon? I once wrote a poem titled “Dove Eyes” for my Mom. It begins:

“My eyes are on Jesus,

the source of my faith,

the source of my life today.

Oh, hold them there Lord, by the power of your Love,

for the world would cause them to stray.

Just let me focus on all that you are,

and all that you’ve done for me . . . ”

I’ve heard doves focus their eyes straight ahead, undistracted by peripheral vision. I’ve seen their delicate eyes and iridescent feathers as they waddle along our railing. In the Song of Solomon the author tells his beloved she has eyes like a dove. I want to be like that, not distracted by anything peripheral in this season of miracles.

Proverbs 4 says it matters where I set my eyes; if I incline my ears to God’s Word; what I store in my heart.

My focus is this: I am the Lord who heals you. (Exodus 15:26 Berean Study Bible.) You can hear Don Moen sing his song based on this promise, “I am the God who Healeth thee” on YouTube.

God said this to people vomiting from drinking contaminated water. Those not bent over with cramps grumbled against the One who just parted the Red Sea so they could escape the Egyptians. God defines His character with His names. Here He is revealed as Yahweh (Jehovah) Rophe, the “Lord thy healer.”

Jehovah, the great I AM.

Rophe –Restorer, Healer.

Myredeemerlives.com says rophe also means physician. This physician makes house calls, day and night! The site says 700 New Testament verses tell us Jesus heals and restores.

Jehovah Rophe, my great Physician.

You heal me, cell by cell.

Day by day.

Pill by pill.

Verse by verse.

Prayer by prayer.

Physician by physician.

Researcher by researcher.

Medicine informs me there’s no forever cure for metastatic breast cancer.

But You O Lord, are my Healer.

My times are in Your hands.

Foolish? In the world’s eyes.

But our heavenly Father cares about all these things, and “His eye is on the sparrow.”

The hymn by that name was written in 1905 in Elmira, New York, my dad’s birthplace. Songwriter Civilla Martin and her husband became friends with the Doolittles, living there. Mr. Doolittle was wheelchair-bound but their radiant attitude defied his severe limitations. When asked about it Mrs. Doolittle explained, “His eye is on the sparrow, and I know He watches me.” (Wikipedia.)

I sing because I’m happy.

I sing because I’m free. . .

And I know He watches me.

All will be well.

YouTube: Don Moen, composer

Photos: Titmouse, Blue Spruce Park 2013; Dove, Philadelphia 2019; sparrow art at Louise Bem’s house

Texting Thru Recovery/ Indiana Gazette