"Lord, Please Heal Me."
The rib‑cage and back pain from the bike wreck were, at times, excruciating. Lying down was the worst of it; the longer I stayed down, the more the stiffness and pain gathered strength. The spasms would seize the entire rib cage, gripping so tightly that even breathing felt impaired. These were not the best of times, and it often seemed doubtful that any of it would ever end. Night after night, trying to sleep in a recliner only deepened the exhaustion. I kept wondering if relief would ever come. Weeks passed with little improvement. Deep breathing and trying to relax into the spasms offered only small mercy. Prayer after prayer rose up — “Lord, please heal me.” I repeated the name of Jesus almost like a chant, but the heart of it was always the same plea: “Please heal me.” And still, the spasms continued. Knowing my own tendencies, a troubling thought surfaced: If I were healed, would I even appreciate it? I remembered the time my father and I pulled a cow from a mud hole it surely wo...