Over lunch, she confided in me about her struggle with taking prescribed medication to correct a chemical imbalance she had been diagnosed with. I listened with an empathetic ear until she said she anticipated the departure of her depression, like having to say goodbye to an old friend. “An old friend!” I gasped incredulously. The uncomfortable silence that followed made me regret my instant rush to judgment.
Days later, while reading the gospel of John, I found the only instance in the gospels where Jesus asks someone if they want to get well. The paralytic answers Jesus’ question by focusing not on the hope before him but on the obstacles he faced. The crippled man had lain beside the pool for thirty-eight years, possibly nursing resentment, frustration, and sorrow. Maybe he gave up all hope and desire to help himself until all these things bloomed into a safe and familiar pain. This chapter illustrates our tendency to withdraw into the predictability of suffering rather than risk leaping into healing pools, which may hold a price.
The Holy Spirit began to show me my own resistance to healing. I was responsible for hiding behind the “comparison barrier” I had built before the Lord. I thwarted the Lord’s healing and my usefulness for the kingdom by watching others grow in their faith and ministries while telling myself things like, “God must favor her more,” or “She’s a better Christian than me.”
God revealed the close companions at my core—negativity and pride. I had bouts of entertaining them by either brooding or making mental lists of how to be more righteous before God. Emotions lie, and we cannot sanctify ourselves. I decided to be a part of Jesus’ healing ministry by calling my friend and telling her I knew just what she had meant that day. Then, I shared what the Holy Spirit had revealed to me.
God doesn’t want any obstacles in our lives that create a barrier between Him and us. Ask yourself if there are any “friends” you entertain.
Christine Rhyner is a writer.