Getting sick was a concern when I first headed overseas but I never really thought about an injury. Perhaps I figured there would be adequate care or maybe I just hoped I would never need to find out. Thankfully, I was blessed with having to face only a few accidents. A closet door fell on my leg, a train thermos spilled on my foot, and several fingers met with a cleaver in soapy dish water; three examples.

While they all share the happy conclusion of healing without hospital stays or hideous scars, there is another common denominator. I tried to hide them. I bandaged the burned foot and wore sturdy shoes when others were wearing sandals. I wanted to prevent the student who had taken me on the train trip from being blamed. I covered my bandaged leg with pants when other teachers had brought out their spring skirts. The university guest house I lived in could be held accountable for poor upkeep. I was evasive about my bandaged fingers. 

Some of my reasons might be justified and some just prideful and ignorant; perhaps preventing me from receiving good care. I thought I knew best and I thought my need could be hidden. This worked for a time but rather ironic in light of the God I serve; who not only knows and sees what I need healed but is the only source of any lasting restoration.  

In my human striving to understand God, I speak of addictions, debilitating diseases and mental illness and wonder over who is and isn’t healed. In the process, do I forget that Jesus came for the sick—those that need a physician—and not the healthy? The Amplified Bible is especially convicting, quoting Jesus as calling sinners, “…the erring ones and all those not free from sin.” Since sin came into the world, there has been a need for healing. I may hide a burn or even my anger and critical spirit from others but not for a second from God. I need to hear and remember what Israel heard, “I am the God who heals.” Ex 15:26