His Healing Touch

The first words out of my mouth when I saw her was….

“She is dead”.

Lifeless head.  Body wrapped in blankets a mile high.

Her skin transparent…..

Weighing somewhere around five pounds.  This delicate shell lay there….

On plywood.

Screaming one.  Beside her.  Face born open between nose and mouth.

Cleft lip.

The cry of a child saying more than….

Feed me…..or…..I am wet.

A death cry of agony that would even grip….The hardest of hearts…..The most calloused of men.

Yet, my eyes were fixed on this one small creature….not moving or flinching….

To the painful cries of the one beside her.

I went to go tell our friend…..our interpreter.

She touched her.

“She is cold.”

I hesitantly move my hand alongside her soft cheek frozen in place in her orphanage home.

In China.

And yes, she is cold…..very cold.

Though wrapped tight in warmth and blankets piled high all around her.

I freeze at the thought that this little one might be dead….or soon die.

Then, I remember opening the Bible randomly time and time again….before leaving for China.

And I would always come to the same stories…..

The one’s of Jesus healing.

And when I read them…..each time He asked me…..

“Do you believe that I can heal?” 

Of course, I did.

But, I knew somehow, someway……along my faith journey……doubt had crept in…..

Like the cold through cracks of a heart once clenched.

So while praying…..I offered bold prayers of freedom……like….

“Lord, raise the dead.”

And

“Shatter any unbelief.”

Yet, here.  In China. I was struggling…..

Seeing……this seemingly dead child before me.

One thing was certain….

We were not called to this orphanage to do great things…..but simply to pray.

So, I touched that tiny, porcelain face…..and out came God words.  The kind no one but heaven can explain.

And she moved.  Carefully.  Turning her head away.

As my knuckles softly brush her face.

Me. Relieved.

She was awake.

Yet, the next few days…

She was still cold.

Until.  One morning my friend said, “God wants you to go to the baby room.  He wants you to hold that baby”.

And not sure why, but waiting.  Until half an hour before leaving.

Our interpreter close by.

I enter nursery…prepared to hear the death cry.  Uncertain if the “cold one” even made it through the night. 

We look around at all the children.

And our interpreter shockingly exclaims….

“She is warm.  Touch her.  She is warm.”

I walk over.  Touch her.  And she moves.  

I ask to hold her. Pick up this five pound angel.

And ask for confirmation. 

“God, I want to see her eyes open, if this baby is truly alive and o.k. I want to see her eyes.”

Just then, infant eyes flutter in the sky, as if to pry eyelids long sealed…..awake.  But they barely open.  So, I pray, 

“No Lord….I want to see her eyes more. Fully.”  

Just then, eyes open.  Completely.  Then, she darts off back to sleep.

And it was then.  I knew.  She in fact would be o.k.

Our interpreter continues to exclaim…..

“The one with cleft lip has stopped crying.  And the other left in grass….covered in ants is now moving.”

What happened?

And I need to explain…..

Our interpreter is not a Christian.  A loving, gracious, others servant most of all….

But not a Christian.

And I had to explain.

It was God.

But, she didn’t understand.

And said…..You guys changed this place.  The whole place is different.  The children are laughing and the whole orphanage is different because you came.

But, I told her…..“We did nothing”.

And I pointed up.

Toward heaven.

Trying again to say….

“It was all Him!”

Holding infant…..

Giving praise.

Then, I ask our interpreter a question……A simple question…..A question that should have brought an easy answer….

But, Christ love could not anymore be contained…..

She broke down.  Crying. 

Leaving the room.  Heart melting.

Truth Speaking.

It was clear…..

There was no way to deny His healing grace.

And I knew it was His love.

His love…..that was seen….but could not be explained.

And greater than any physical healing…..is spiritual healing.

Soul redemption.  The promise of His Kingdom. 

And we walk from nursery knowing.

God is alive and moving.   

Here.  

In this orphanage.  

In China.