Prayer for Healing

Bless the Lord, O my soul. I'm saying that to myself right now. Not just reciting it. I'm telling my soul to bless the Lord. Because sometimes the soul needs to be told. Because sometimes it forgets.

Lord, I need healing. I'll let you decide what that means. Maybe it's the body. Maybe it's the wound someone left. Maybe it's the way I've been thinking about myself that isn't true. You know where it is. You've always known.

Who forgiveth all thine iniquities. All of them. Not most. Not the ones that are easy to forgive. All. Who healeth all thy diseases. All. Not the simple ones. The ones that have been there a long time. The ones the doctors shrug at. The ones I've stopped believing could change.

I've been carrying this for a while. Longer than I'd like to admit. I've gotten used to it, in a way. You get used to pain when it stays long enough. You start to think it's just you. But it's not just me, is it? You see it. You see exactly where it is. But you have always been the God who heals. Psalm 103 says He healeth all thy diseases. All. Not the ones that are acceptable to talk about. The deep ones. The ones I don't even have language for. The healing I've stopped asking for because I stopped believing it was possible. Like as a father pitieth his children, so the Lord pitieth them that fear him. Not judgment. Not disappointment. Pity. Compassion. The way a good father looks at a sick child and moves toward them. That's you. Moving toward me.

I'm going to stop guarding this thing now. I've been holding it close, haven't I? Protecting it. Afraid of what happens if I let you into it. But you're the healer. And I can't heal myself. I've tried.

So here it is. All of it. The part I never show anyone. The part I barely admit to myself. Heal me, Lord. Not just manage this. Not just cope. Heal me.

In the name of Jesus, I pray.

Amen.