And the Lord is the healer of withered limbs. He can deal with imprisoned affections as the warm spring deals with the river which has been locked in ice. He can minister to a stricken will, and make it as a benumbed hand when the circulation has been restored. He can give it grip and tenacity. And so with all our powers. He, who is the Life, can vitalize all!
But here again the remnant of our withered endowment must be used in the healing. We must surrender to the Healer. We must obey. If the Lord says: “Stretch forth thy hand,” we must attempt the impossible! In this region the impossible becomes possible in sanctified endeavour.
AUGUST The Sixteenth
THE CHURCH AS AN INFIRMARY
Luke xiii. 10-17.
HAT infirmities gather together in the synagogue! What moral and spiritual ailments are congregated in every place of worship! If the veil of the flesh could be removed, and the inward life revealed, how we should pity one another, and how we should pray! In how many lives should we behold a spirit “bound together,” who “could in no wise lift herself up!” Wills like crushed reeds, consciences like broken vocal chords, hopes like birds with injured wings, and hearts like ruined homes!
But the blessed Lord still goes into the synagogue; nay, He anticipates our coming. And He is present “to heal the broken in heart,” and to “bind up his wounds.” His touch “has still its ancient power.” Still does the gracious Master speak with authority. “Woman, thou art loosed from thine infirmity!” And immediately she is “made straight.”