Some time later, Jesus went up to Jerusalem for a feast of the Jews. Now there is in Jerusalem near the Sheep Gate a pool, which in Aramaic is called Bethesda and which is surrounded by five covered colonnades. Here a great number of disabled people used to lie—the blind, the lame, the paralyzed. One who was there had been an invalid for thirty-eight years. When Jesus saw him lying there and learned that he had been in this condition for a long time, he asked him, “Do you want to get well?”
“Sir,” the invalid replied, “I have no one to help me into the pool when the water is stirred. While I am trying to get in, someone else goes down ahead of me.” Then Jesus said to him, “Get up! Pick up your mat and walk.” At once the man was cured; he picked up his mat and walked. John 5:1-9
I have several beloved friends who have been stuck a long time. One struggles under the power and shame of addiction. A couple of others wrestle in the vice-like grip of depression; one caused by a devastating heartbreak, the other from chronic health problems. Yet another is trapped by crippling loneliness and insecurity. They are all surrounded by people who love them and pray for them regularly, and that seems to just barely keep their heads above water. But at any given moment, I feel like they could slip under into the darkness. The worst part is, they seem to be resigned to and even okay with that possibility. But I, as their friend, am not.
It’s a helpless feeling, loving someone who is stuck. Often I feel like I should be able to love them to wholeness, a misconception that has proven disastrous a number of times. Through the years, I have learned to release them into the hands of the only One who can, and I continue to love and pray hard for these precious lives.
The other day I stumbled upon the story of Christ’s healing at Bethesda. A man who had been paralyzed for thirty-eight years lie among the wounded, waiting for someone to come along and help him into the pool at the right time, though maybe not really expecting it. And Someone did come along. With a very strange question:
Do you want to get well?
Um, Jesus, that sounds pretty obvious. I mean, the guy has been disabled for thirty-eight years. Seems like a no-brainer to me. Why don’t You just commence with the healing already? And the only thing stranger than the question is the answer. Instead of an emphatic and rejoicing YES!, the hopeless soul offers only an excuse:
This is why I’m not well yet. This is what I’m waiting for. This is why I can’t be healed.
Granted, maybe he didn’t know who he was talking to. Thankfully, Jesus in His relentless mercy, heals him anyway. And perhaps it was only then that the man knew he was dealing with the King of Creation, the long-awaited Messiah.
But we know Jesus. We know who He is. We know what He has done. While I’ve done significant work through depression and other issues, I find myself still carrying around a few seemingly harmless hang-ups that I know are keeping me from abundant life. Any stronghold Satan can hold onto in the life of a believer will ultimately lead to our ineffectiveness as a witness for Christ and a worker in His kingdom. And what joy the enemy must get from robbing the King’s children of their God-given right to freedom. Especially if he can convince us that there are just too many obstacles between us and that freedom, too much work that must be done. His evil, soothing voice whispers, Life is so hard for you. It takes so much just get out of bed in the morning. Why waste what precious little energy you have on pursuing healing that may not even work? It’s not so bad. You can live like this. And just between you and me, you probably don’t deserve anymore than this anyway, you know? So let’s just settle in to life like this.
And we buy it. If we reach out for help, no one will be there. Jesus won’t catch us. And that will just cause more shame, embarrassment and disappointment.
No, no, no. Our precious Savior is standing a breath away, looking right into our broken hearts offering us the life we were created for. But first He makes us face our fear. Do you want to get well? If you do, I’m right here. I will walk with you through it. We will overcome this together. But first, you must choose Me. You must choose life. You must say yes.
Don’t offer excuses. Don’t tell Him why you’re not well yet. Don’t tell Him it’s not possible. Believe Him for who He is. Believe Him for His promises to His children.
I had my own Bethesda moment several years ago at one of the lowest points of my existence. My heart was destroyed and I threw myself into the fight of my life, for my life. I had been fighting a long time and my shattered heart was growing weary. And right when I run out of steam, about to resign to brokenness, God showed up. Clear as can be He began to run through His holy resume with me. This is who I AM. This is what I’ve done. This is what I’ve given you. This is how you’ve squandered it. This is what I want for you. And this is what I want from you. And then His mighty voice softened and He whispered into my heart tender words that I will never forget:
Do you think I can’t still make a masterpiece out of your sad little life?
And whenever that hopeless overwhelming feeling begins to rear its ugly head, those words ring through my spirit. My destiny is spoken for. All I have to do is choose it.
