healed, ungrateful wretch

Have you ever asked God for healing?

I have many times.  I have asked for healing for myself and for others.  I asked God to heal my cousin who needed a heart transplant.  I asked Him to heal a family friend who had cancer.  And I asked Him to heal me of my infirmities.

I forgot that I asked Him.

I was reading the Gospel According to Matthew the other day and I saw the passage where Jesus heals a woman who has a flow of blood on His way to raise a girl from the dead.  I remembered reading this passage in high school and identifying with the woman... I hadn't been sick for twelve years, only three or four.  I also was afflicted by an secret illness that had many symptoms, but no conventional or unconventional way of getting better was presenting itself.  I was tired, it was sapping my body... and like the woman, it wasn't a disease that I felt comfortable talking about.  I was unclean.

I wished that Jesus would walk across my path... I was willing to get on my hands and knees, crawl through the dirty streets just to get close to Him.

I asked Him to heal me, in spite of the fact that my illness was only three or four years old.  I asked in faith...  I prayed that I had faith.

My mother was seeking out different doctors to help me at this time, and soon we found one that started addressing my specific problems one at a time, and I started to get better.  I thought this doctor was a miracle worker, and I was thankful for her help.

Even though my body still struggles with some issues, I am so thankful that I am much healthier than I was 7 years ago.

But wait... I'm thankful? Who healed me?  My doctor?  The lab who tested my six vials of blood?

Another passage comes to mind, another passage of healing.  The ten lepers.  Jesus heals all of them, and only one comes back to thank Him. 9 healed men never thanked the Savior of the universe for transforming their lives.  I used to feel a bit ashamed of those men, why didn't they say thank you?  Then I realized that I am one of the nine.  I was healed.  God used the doctors that have helped me, God touched my body and healed it.

I often examine the prayers I write in my journal... and unfortunately I usually have a paragraph of thank You's followed by a page of please's.  Sometimes the ratio is even worse.  Why are my manners so bad when I talk to my Heavenly Father?  You'd think I would learn and stop taking Him for granted.  

I want to be more grateful.  If I woke up every morning and truly believed the things that I pray... "Lord, thank for giving me one more day to live in Your presence...," how would that change my life? 

Every minute, every breath.... every cool breeze, every sunbeam... every work day, every day of rest... every hug, every person... every blessing.   Thank You Abba Father.