There was a woman at the altar today in my Sunday morning service. She was kneeling there, tissues in hand, raising it upwards to Heaven. If you looked a bit closer you could see this woman in the blue sweater was crying. Her quiet sobs gently shook her broken down frame.
Anyone who knows this gal, can attest to the troubles and ailments that inhibit her life. Her road has been anything but easy and now its terrain, more rugged. Its slope, slippery than ever. If you knew her as I, you can attest that despite her determination of will, optimism of heart, and tenacity of spirit, she was desperate for freedom from all that had her bound.
So that is what drove this anguished woman there. For she knows full well of her Savior's redeeming blood. She deeply believes that the stripes He bore upon His back represent every disorder and each disease. She embraces the power of the cross, all that it stands for and holds onto the Lord's unfailing love.
And even though her body may not have received specific healings, the true miracle is that her spirit did. She found peace for the taking. Strength for the moment. Making the choice of unyielding to an unknown future with an uncertain end. Yes. It is true. I found my Jesus there, at the altar, this Sunday Morn.
