Healing by Karla Kay Huff Rowley

When I think of healing I see a continuum of interventions.  I see the pat on the head of a small child as you help them up from falling; I see the hug for a friend who has lost a family member; I see the sitting in silence when there is nothing more to say—but to be present is enough.

Many years ago I was a part of a group of ‘pray-ers’.  We called the type of praying we did ‘soaking prayer’.  The techniques were different from what I had done or known to do prior to this group coming into being.  I think that is where it gelled for me that healing involved many different things on multiple levels.  In this group I learned about ultimate healing which is what I’m thinking about today.

When I was a child I had an extremely close relationship with my maternal grandmother.  She lived near us in Oklahoma City and I saw her often.  When we moved away from Oklahoma City—I spent summers with her and it was during that time I saw her health as it began to deteriorate.  A few years later she moved to Tulsa and lived in a duplex near my sister’s school.  The first week that she lived there she was not feeling too well.  I stayed with her each night since the phone was not hooked up.  I remember the time I spent with her on the day that the phone had been installed.  She was feeling better and she had showered and asked me to roll her hair for her.  We talked as I put her hair in rollers and the main thing that I remember was her telling me how important it was for me to continue learning. She commented that she was always looking for something new to learn—and that it kept her young and her mind sharp.

She called my mother when I finished her hair—because since I had a program at school the next day—she thought I should sleep in my own bed that night.  Mother picked me up and we arranged to pick Grandma up the next morning on our way to school—so she could go to my program. Mother and I dropped my younger sister off at school—then I went to Grandma’s door to see if she was ready.  There was no answer.  Mother went inside and found her.  She had apparently had a heart attack and died probably right after Mother had picked me up the night before.  

I have always been appreciative of the time I spent with her.  I like to think that she would be proud of how I’ve built my life.  I know that I am proud to be her grandchild.

Finally, I want to share the words from a song about healing.  The words (and music) are by Leslie Babcock—the song is ‘Beautifully Broken’.  I know that Ruby Wilson Landtroop would have loved this song and that she would be proud of her great-great granddaughter, Leslie Rydell Rowley Babcock.

Bring your secrets, bring your mess,
Lay them down and I will give you rest
Bring addiction, bring your shame,
Lay them down and call on my name,
Call on my name,
No more bondage, no more pain,
All your tears are wiped away,
Let the healing come,
By the power of my blood,
The power of my blood,
Oh, I was broken for you,
So you can be broken before me—
And I will piece you back together—beautifully.
Bring your secrets, bring your mess,
Lay them down and I will give you rest
Bring addiction, bring your shame,
Lay them down and call out my name,
Oh, speak his name, Jesus,
We speak his name, Jesus,
Jesus,
No more bondage, no more pain.
All your tears are wiped away,
Let the healing come
By the power of my blood
Let my healing come
By the power of my blood
Oh I was broken for you
So you can be broken before me and I will piece you back together, beautifully, beautifully,
I was broken for you so you can be broken before me, and I will piece you back together, beautifully,
Broken beautifully, broken beautifully,

My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever.” (Psalm 73:26)

Reflection Question:
How do we see God’s movement in our lives – in the small ways and in the eternal?

Prayer
Come Close to Me, O God.
Close that I may see you in the small and big.
Amen.

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