John 5: 2-9
Inside the city, near the Sheep Gate, was the pool of
, with five covered porches. Crowds of sick people – blind, lame or
paralyzed – lay on the porches. One of
the men lying there had been sick for thirty-eight years. When Jesus saw him and knew how long he had
been ill, he asked him, “Would you like to get well?” “I can’t, sir,” the sick man said, “for I
have no one to help me into the pool when the water is stirred up. Bethesda
While I am trying to get there, someone else always gets in ahead of me.”
Jesus told him, “Stand up, pick up your sleeping mat, and walk!”
Instantly, the man was healed! He rolled up the mat and began walking!
I had a hard time sleeping last night for some reason. I laid there thinking about how far I’ve come and how far I have to go. I thought about other people and how I wish I could do something to help them along in their own painful journeys. I couldn’t put my mind fully at rest because of these thoughts. This scripture came to mind because it profoundly came alive to me several years back when I was in my darkest moment.
The man in scripture had been sick for 38 years. He was a paralytic, from what I can gather in this portion of reading. I know that this scripture has been used in many sermons over the years and I am by no means a theologian so I won’t attempt to shed deep theological light on it. I will only relate to you what my thoughts are. Jesus knew that the man had been ill for 38 years. He knew. Jesus had the power and the knowledge to take this man’s affliction from him years ago and yet he remained by the pool waiting for what he thought would be his opportunity to receive his healing. He thought that he would be healed in the same manner in which the others were being healed; by stepping into the stirred waters. When Jesus questioned him about his desire to get well, the man was quick to say, “I can’t…no one will help me…someone always gets ahead of me.” And so the dialogue goes. I am sure that if we could have been there we would have heard much more conversation than what is noted, but what God wanted at least me to see is that pivotal question, “Do you want to get well?” I notice here probably more of what Jesus doesn’t say in this passage. He doesn’t say, “Hey, you guys step aside and let this guy get in the pool”. He doesn’t say, “Will someone come and help this man to his feet”. He doesn’t say, “I am Jesus, I will walk for you”. No. He says to the broken man, “Stand up, pick up your mat, and walk!” Out of a desire to do anything to receive healing the man did exactly that. He got up and he “began” walking. Scripture doesn’t tell us that he went out and climbed mountains or ran marathons. Maybe the point of it was to know that he simply began. Maybe when we are desperate for healing or to hear the answer to that illusive question of why, we need to take a step out on our own toward that healing or answer. I don’t know. What I do know is that for many years I felt paralyzed; paralyzed by fear, loneliness and depression. There came a day when I decided to “get up”. I took one step and then two and eventually the spring was even back in my step.
Was this the cure all? No, not really. Life continues and so do its maladies. I often return to this portion of scripture and I continue to get up and take forward steps; sometimes very slow steps but deliberate. There were some who were critical of my healing process because it wasn’t what they wanted for me at the time. They wanted to see me go to an altar and be instantly healed in my mind of all depression, sadness and anything else that seemed to plague me. If that is what it took to get them to lift up a prayer for me, then I am thankful for their prayers. It has been the prayers of many and a fierce determination to rise above it all that keeps me walking forward.
I know that God won’t walk for me. I know that He will walk with me. I believe that sometimes He just sits back and watches me take each step like a proud parent watches a child.
I got up and began walking…and I’m so glad I did
Thanks for stopping by,
Amy Lynn Michael