The Pool Of Healing

My mom lost her mom when she was a teenager. On her birthday.

My mom’s mom suffered much. She was the only one in her family to survive the Soviet starvation. She survived not becoming food to the humans Stalin had turned into cannibals. She survived childhood without a mother and father. She survived raising their first-born alone in the poverty of USSR while her husband served in the army.

My mom’s mom survived much.

Except cancer.

How my mom wished to have had access to the pool of Bethesda [house of mercy] from John 5.

The pool of House of Mercy was surrounded by a crowd of fellow sufferers waiting for an opportunity to be healed when the waters were stirred.

Although surrounded by many, he sat alone- the man invalid for 38 years. Financially challenged. Socially challenged. Physically challenged. Emotionally distraught. “I have no one to help me into the pool…” He’d say.

Yes, poor, alone, sick and sad, yet persevering at the ‘gate of mercy’. What an inspiring attitude of not quitting no matter how long, how painful, how lonely the journey is.

Jesus. Jesus shows up. As He always does.

Jesus comes and asks the man the obvious “Do you want to get well?”

The man, clueless of who was talking to him, goes on to complain about how everyone beats him to the pool. Although a healing not based on the man’s faith, Jesus cures him anyway. Then Jesus fades among the crowd before the man gets to learn of His name.

Jesus. Jesus shows up again. As He always does.

Jesus looks for him at the temple and reveals His identity. From the start, Jesus was after his heart. “The man went away and told the Jewish leaders that it was Jesus who had made him well.” John 5:15

Although not the way he expected, the man gets to leave ‘the pool of healing’.

Photo by Zack Minor on Unsplash

My mom’s mom is not hanging out at the ‘pool of healing’ anymore. Hoping. Waiting. Surviving. Today she is thriving in the arms of Jesus.

But as grandmother found relief from the earthly aches into heavenly realms, my mom stayed behind at the ‘pool of healing’ herself. Grieving. Waiting. Surviving.

A hurting friend told me that “Grieving is a journey. The important thing is not to stay stuck, but to keep on moving.” With time, my mom left ‘the pool of healing’ too. She chose not to ‘lie around’ and wait. She chose to get moving.

Tragic as it was her ‘sweet sixteen’, she’s never resented September 26th, her birthday. Instead, she kept grandmother’s memory alive by teaching me how amazing she was: “A jolly petit person with black curls, whitish skin, and grand compassion for the ‘crazy lady’ of the village she’d bring home to feed and dress.” That’s my grandmother ladies and gents.

What keeps us waiting on our ‘laying mats’ at ‘the pool of healing’?

Sometimes healing takes 38 years. Sometimes it comes in the least expected ways. Let’s press forth no matter how poor, alone, sick or sad we might feel.

Jesus. Jesus will show up. As He always does.

And He’s worth the wait.

John 5:12-15 “So they asked him, ‘Who is this fellow who told you to pick it up and walk?’ The man who was healed had no idea who it was, for Jesus had slipped away into the crowd that was there. Later Jesus found him at the temple and said to him, ‘See, you are well again. Stop sinning or something worse may happen to you.’ The man went away and told the Jewish leaders that it was Jesus who had made him well.”

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