The Healer with the Withered Hand

While at the airport, a man approached me with a Bible tract. At first I thought he was a Jehovah’s Witness and was hesitant to engage with him, but I thought, what the heck. I was in a good mood, and I felt safe; traveling makes me more outgoing. As he spoke, I realized he was not a Jehovah’s Witness—we seemed to have very similar theology and mindset. He asked if he could pray for me, and I allowed it. Then I asked him if I could pray for him. He was very happy and almost caught off guard by it, and I could tell he was in agreement with my words because I understand the struggles and complexities of doing the Lord’s work.

This was my first travel overseas. As I was standing there in the transport center about to eat a big juicy burger, I had my computer equipment out; all my ducks were in a row to get my work done. I felt like the man—until it hit me.

Even though I’m technically poor by many people’s standards (I literally left my country because my own was too unaffordable), I am, still, in a way, the definition of the story of the rich young ruler, because I hold on to things, and I have hope for things in this life. I’m on my way to have the world as my oyster. But this man reminded me of what’s important: my eternity, not my ability to be great at tech, is what matters.

Matthew 19:16–22

James 5

Let me explain some spiritual ironies here.

The evangelical was a normal-looking man, handsome even, more dapper and in better health than me from an outside appearance at first glance, but he had a stub for a hand. If anyone recalls, there were so many miracles in the Bible of Jesus and the apostles healing people with such problems—yet this man with the withered hand was the healer. Sent by God to remind me of what’s most important in life: salvation in the next one.

The man with the withered hand

Heal yourself, doctor. Do you see the beauty in this?

Physician, heal thyself

To enter into the kingdom of God’s rest, you have to lose your life to gain the better one; those who have in this life will not have in the next. The wisdom of this, although seeming elementary, is as clear as day to me now.

Hebrews 4

The man at the transport center—the one with the withered hand, the one who prayed for me—he is who I used to be.

I used to be that man—so zealous, yet broken, tormented in my soul, wanting to die every day. Yet in the midst of my depression, I could not only hear the voice of God, I could speak to God, and He would answer me internally—actual communication with the Creator. I would do anything for God to take away a thorn in my flesh. And He did it.

Around that time, many, many years ago, I was visited by someone—she never told me her name. She is distinct from God, I think, although I know her voice. She appears as the audible voice of God’s power, and she is not far from any of us. When she speaks, it comes to pass. There is no fighting her prophecy, although I have tried. Like Jacob, I was softly bruised but rewarded for my intention.

Here is what she says about herself in Scripture, if this is her:

I, wisdom, dwell together with prudence. The Lord brought me forth as the first of his works, before his deeds of old. I was formed long ages ago, at the very beginning, when the world came to be. When there were no watery depths, I was given birth... Then I was constantly at his side, rejoicing always in his presence, delighting in mankind. (Proverbs 8, shortened)

Does not wisdom call out? Does not understanding raise her voice? Blessed are those who listen to me, watching daily at my doors. For those who find me find life and receive favor from the Lord.

All the prophets in the Bible are real. Their stories are my stories. I know many of the stories appear in other mythologies. This is because all ideas of men come from God. Since we are all created by Him, we universally share the same mind trying to explain His invisible qualities in nature. We are the only animals with eternity set in our hearts. The Bible is the only collection of consistent stories with historical and accurate prophetic context that point to a central figure called Christ—the Sun, the Redeemer, the Rebirth. He is the true Son of the Creator, the same Creator who visited me and told me that this is His Son.

Many years ago, she gave me keys to the kingdom—the keys to believe in God’s internal word and to my renewed life on earth. A second chance. A first chance to live the life that was stolen from me, like Joseph.

They took him and threw him into the cistern. The cistern was empty; there was no water in it. (Genesis 37:24)

Later, his brothers received the drought, and he came up out of the well into safety and a whole new life.

Hezekiah’s prayer and the extension of his life

“In my distress I called to the LORD, and He answered me. From the belly of Sheol I called for help, and You heard my voice.” (Jonah 2:2)

To be born again, one must die in the belly of the pit of this life, as to put to death all of life’s attachments, and then come up out of the water as a new creation onto the dry land of a new life. (Colossians 3:2-3)

In my vow I said, “I’m stuck.” My vow was that if God would heal me so I didn’t have to take these pharmaceuticals that held me back, I would travel the world and tell the world of His kingdom. Obviously, I didn’t foresee the use of mobile phones and YouTube in 2004. But such is the case with vows. You don’t know what God has in store for you, or the way the world might change, before taking the oath.

The point of this story, though, is that I’m here, traveling the world, and I’m trying to do the right thing. Instead of being at the bars or the clubs, I’m ordering takeout from Grab, sitting at a desk and writing, clearing my conscience, trying to explain the mysteries of the gospel.

I don't care if I'm perceived as crazy. I am. And I am filled with the love and joy of God's Holy Spirit.

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