The Power of Love in Healing

The past two Sundays we have been praying healing prayers. This week I talked about the power of love for healing.

Love Is powerful.  “A new command I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another. By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another.” John 13:34-35 (NIV)

This is new and powerful because we are urged to love each other like Jesus loves us. It takes love to a new level and to a new dimension. This speaks directly to who you are as a person and a Christian. Loving brings health and power into your life and your love brings health and life to those around you. We struggle with all of this because we really don’t understand love. Thousands of books and songs are written on the subject of love each year. But I doubt that we truly understand it. Especially if one looks from a Biblical perspective.

What Is love? Love is not a warm emotion; it is an act of the will. Jesus commands us to love one another. It cannot be commanded if it is an uncontrollable emotion. Like the forgiveness we talked about in my blog last week, we decide to love and then carry out that decision. Love is not how we feel, it is what we do. It is described perfectly in 1 Corinthians 13:4-7 (NIV). “Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.”

There is not one emotion mentioned here. Love is not an unmanageable emotion, it is an act of the will… a decision we make and then carry out by our actions.

Love and hate are both quite powerful. They can bring life or they can take life. They can strengthen or they can weaken. Love brings faith and hate nurtures fear. The basic nature of God is love and the core of Christianity is love. Scripture speaks to these points. “And so we know and rely on the love God has for us. God is love. Whoever lives in love lives in God, and God in them. This is how love is made complete among us so that we will have confidence on the day of judgment: In this world we are like Jesus. There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear, because fear has to do with punishment. The one who fears is not made perfect in love.” 1 John 4:16-18 (NIV)

“You have heard that it was said, ‘Love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ But I tell you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, that you may be children of your Father in heaven. He causes his sun to rise on the evil and the good, and sends rain on the righteous and the unrighteous. If you love those who love you, what reward will you get? Are not even the tax collectors doing that?” Matthew 5:43-46 (NIV)

Love is the source of salvation which is the ultimate healing. “Greater love has no one than this: to lay down one’s life for one’s friends.” John 15:13 (NIV) “You see, at just the right time, when we were still powerless, Christ died for the ungodly. Very rarely will anyone die for a righteous person, though for a good person someone might possibly dare to die. But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us.” Romans 5:6-8 (NIV)

Love or the lack of love dictates our behavior. Love is foundational to all we do and all we are as Christians. It is through love and with love that we claim all God has for us. “Above all, love each other deeply, because love covers over a multitude of sins.” “This day I call the heavens and the earth as witnesses against you that I have set before you life and death, blessings and curses. Now choose life, so that you and your children may live
and that you may love the LORD your God, listen to his voice, and hold fast to him. For the LORD is your life, and he will give you many years in the land he swore to give to your fathers, Abraham, Isaac and Jacob.” Deuteronomy 30:19-20 (NIV2011)

Allow me to share a story of the healing power of love. (This is an excerpt from my book, RENEW YOUR CONGREGATION, HEALING THE SICK AND RAISING THE DEAD.)

Travel back with me in time. It was almost 30 years ago. It was a Saturday night. Really it was the wee hours of Sunday morning. Five of us shared a room. We spent the night together. It was a room for one, but we all managed to squeeze in. We all knew each other. In fact, we are related...enjoy each other’s company...love each other. But not one of us really wanted to be there.

It was an expensive room. My guess is it went for about $2,000 a night. Good view of the city. Nothing else special about it. There was no pool available. No Jacuzzi. The only meals available were at a cafeteria. The room service was nonexistent. The floors weren’t carpeted. I have seen larger bathrooms on a bus. No doubt that what made the room expensive was the equipment: the monitors, IV pumps, electric multi-position bed, oxygen, vacuum pumps, and cabinets of medical supplies. The room we shared was room 466 in the intensive care unit of Jewish Hospital in Louisville, Kentucky.

I had received the ominous telephone call earlier that evening: “Your brother has taken a turn for the worse, and we want his family to come to the hospital.” I used to work in a hospital so I know that the “turn for the worse” line is “medicalese” for “your loved one just died, and we want you to come to the hospital so we can tell you to your face that he is dead.” So I went to the hospital without much hope.

Being hospital savvy and knowing I would be arriving in the middle of the night, I wore a tie and my clergy name badge. Instead of stopping me, the security guard in the ER showed me the way to the intensive care unit. Instead of questioning me, the nurse in intensive care directed me to Mr. McConnell’s room.

Getting there was the easy part. Surprisingly, my brother Bob was still alive when I arrived. Just barely, but alive. My sister Kae, her daughter June, and my daughter Meg, were there staring at the monitor screen. There is not much else to look at, so everyone in the room tends to stare at the monitor. And they were waiting. Waiting for me… Waiting for Bob to die… Waiting for God to do something… Waiting. I arrived, we prayed, and then I joined the waiting.

We took turns sitting in the three available chairs. We were playing a sort of musical chairs without the music. We wrapped up in blankets and complained of the cold. Individually and as a unit, we pursued the hopeless search for a comfortable position. My theory is hospital chairs are designed to be uncomfortable to make one miserable enough to go home and get out of the staff’s hair.

Nevertheless, we stayed and sought sleep, and we resisted sleep. We talked. We talked to Bob, and we talked about Bob. We talked about better days and family and how and what our children and grandchildren are doing and whatever happened to old what’s-his-name and spouses and ex-spouses and what had been and what could have been and what should have been. We stood by the bed and held Bob’s hand and looked into his tired face and listened to his labored breathing and prayed and wept and hoped against hope.

Morning came. Bob was not only still alive, but just a bit better and rallying quickly. His doctor showed up and was amazed to find him alive. The doctor didn’t quite know what to make of it. Temperature—down. Blood pressure—up. Blood oxygen—up. Lungs—clear. It was amazing. The doctor wondered aloud, “How did this happen?” We didn’t know. He held the only medical degree in the room.

I have a theory. A popular Christian song says, “In this very room there is quite enough love for one like me.” I believe in that very room in the intensive care unit of Jewish Hospital there was quite enough love for Bob. Enough love for Bob—for Bob to live through the night. For Bob to recover live for almost 25 years in North Carolina where he was close to and enjoyed life with his children and grandchildren. Ask me, and I will tell you that it is true. You can live on love. Love is powerful enough to work miracles and bring healing. My hope is that we all find a room like that very room I was blessed to spend that Saturday night in. It was a miserably marvelous room. It was a room filled to overflowing with love.

It is in rooms like that room where healing happens.

Copyright © 2015, William T. McConnell, All Rights Reserved

Bill McConnell is Senior Minister at Lindenwood Christian Church in Memphis, Tennessee and is a Church Transformation consultant and a Christian Leadership Coach. He is a frequent speaker at Church Transformation events. His latest book on church transformation is DEVELOPING A SIGNIFICANT CHURCH and is available at Westbow Press.

He can be contacted @ bill45053@gmail.com. Connect with him on Facebook @ William T. McConnell or on Twitter @billmc45053 or visit his Amazon Author Page @ Amazon

I Love a Parade

My father died almost 34 years ago. Today would have been his 105th birthday. Rarely does a week pass that I don’t wish I had a chance to talk to him. He was my most often mentioned reference in my sermons. Early in my adult years, I finally figured out who he really was. My childish perceptions were way off base. He was a good, loving, and wise man. In many ways, I sought to be like him.

About 3 years after his death, I was motivated to write the first piece I ever had published. Allow me to share those thoughts with you at this time.

I love a good parade. I even like bad parades. I have seen both kinds. Some really stick in my memory.

The 1970 Memorial Day Parade in Waddy, Kentucky (yes, that is the town's real name) immediately springs to mind. The town folks had been talking about the Memorial Day Parade for weeks before the event and I was getting rather excited about it. One couldn’t spend any time in the local grocery store without the conversation turning to the parade. Plans and preparations were being made. It seemed that most of the people in the little town were going to be participating.

My family and I passed up several offers so we could be sure to be there for the "big" parade. I will admit that the offers we received were not all that tempting. But we did make a conscious decision to be around for the big parade. At the appointed time we took our places on the sidewalk of the main drag. I must be fair and tell you that Waddy in 1970 was a community of about 255 people and the main drag was the only drag. And there were not very many feet of sidewalk to get on. Since most of the residents were in the parade, finding a place to watch it wasn’t difficult. We didn’t have to come down the night before and stake out our space. Showing up ten minutes before parade time worked out fine.

We didn’t have to wait long before the action started. Here came the parade. It was absolutely wonderful. Strung out for several feet behind the town's antique and only fire truck were two shiny, brand spanking new pick up trucks. The owners had obviously spent a lot of time washing and waxing their pride and joy. One of the trucks was pulling the only float in the parade which was carrying some of the local veterans riding on a tobacco wagon. The other truck was hauling a young girl – perhaps she was Miss Waddy or Miss Shelby County. The entire local Cub Scout Pack, all six of them, were the color guard. There were bicycles and wagons and baby strollers and balloons and crept paper and sparklers and dogs, some horses and a couple of ponies. My, it was grand. One the finest parades I have ever seen. My heart was touched. I wouldn't have missed it.

There have been several other parades in my life. All of them were larger and longer. Many were more exciting and colorful and entertaining. Some were so long they became boring. A couple of them have been just plain stupid. No offense is intended (Really) but have you ever attended a gay rights parade? There is a bad idea. But none of them grander... except one. That is the parade that wandered through my parents’ kitchen in the fall of 1986.

 My father was very busy that fall dying of cancer of the God-knows-what. The doctors couldn't tell where the cancer had originated but it wasn't difficult to see where it had gone. It was everywhere and Dad was so skinny by then that much of it stuck out on various parts of his body. It was horrible to watch a strong, robust, commanding man reduced to a skeleton struggling to live through each day seeking to find ways to have as little pain as possible. It was horrible, but riveting – like those slasher horror films young teens flock to watch. It was also a wonderful time of quiet conversations and opportunities to do for my father; a man who had always done for others, especially his children. Though the role reversal was a bit challenging for both of us, it was a wonderful God gift to be able to serve my father during a very difficult time.

As cancer took more and more from him and more of him from us, we were completely centered on his well being. Though not unusually tall, my dad was very strong. As a high school kid he had a job picking up milk cans from the local dairy farmers. He could hang on the back of the truck with one hand, lean out and grab a milk can in the other and swing it up into the back of the truck. That is about 140 pounds per can. Whoa, strong guy. Dad played baseball and basketball well and taught his boys how to play.

Because the degeneration of his physical body and our all-consuming struggle to make him as comfortable as possible had so captured my attention, the parade that had begun had been passing before my eyes long before I noticed it.

But one those beautiful cloudless, bright blue sky, breezy autumn afternoons it burst upon my sight. For a parade, it was difficult to spot. There were no fire trucks or Cub Scouts or floats or marching bands or riders on horseback.  There were no pretty young beauty queens seeking our attention or politicians seeking our votes. Most of the faces in this parade were familiar to me, although some were strangers. But they all knew my father. He was the "theme" that held this parade together. This was a parade of people, passing through my parent's spacious, warm, welcoming kitchen, in front of the reclining chair that had become Dad's chief place of residence.

They came from near and far. As close as the next-door neighbor and as far as several states away. They all came to say the same thing in many different ways.  They came to say, "Thank you, Mr. McConnell.  You have made a difference in my life."   What a wonderful thing to say!  "Thanks for living and letting me be a part of your life.  Your life counted for something in my life." “You have lived a life that was significant because your life powerfully impacted my life.”

 And what a strange mix of people it was that carried this message to my father. There were the preachers and church leaders from all over the state that Dad had prayed with and for and taught so much about how to be sensitive to the needs of others and the leading of the Lord. He helped them have more than a theoretical Christianity. There was the alcoholic who lived next door who was snubbed by the community but was proud to be called "friend" by "Mr. Mack". There were the young men of the community that had looked to my father for advice and counsel on subjects ranging from family budgeting to how to win an argument without losing a friend. There were the single mother and her children who were helped through some hard times by a man they hardly knew. There were the old people that came to thank the man who brought them meals when they were too sick to cook for themselves. There were the business associates that had worked with him for over a quarter of a century – folks who really knew him and thus knew him to be a man of integrity, courage, compassion, wisdom, and humor. There were his law clients who received much more than just good legal advice from their attorney. There were the students from more than 30 years of Sunday school classes that came to thank the man who helped make God real and understandable to them. There were the Little League ballplayers who had become middle-aged men, wanting to thank him for being a fine baseball coach and an even better example.

 They came from all over. They loved and appreciated my father and came to tell him. Dad was sick, but he was having a wonderful time. He had invested his life well. And though it was coming to, what many of us considered, a premature end, it had been a great, meaningful, full life. My dad had been successful. He grew up on a little hill farm in Robertson County, Kentucky. He had served his country in World War II. He was the first in his family to graduate from college. He worked his way through law school and was the Vice President and Treasurer of a very successful life insurance company. He had provided very well for his wife and children. He was successful. But more importantly, his life had been significant.

 Fortunately, I recognized what was happening in time to join this wonderful parade. I grasped the opportunity at hand and thanked my Dad for being a fine father, good friend, wonderful teacher, and excellent example. What a parade! My, it was grand. One of the finest parades I have ever seen. I wouldn't have missed it for the world.

Copyright © 2015, William T. McConnell, All Rights Reserved

 Bill McConnell works as an Interim Minister and is a Church Transformation consultant and a Christian Leadership Coach. He is a frequent speaker at Church Transformation events. His latest book on church transformation is DEVELOPING A SIGNIFICANT CHURCH and is available at Westbow Press.

He can be contacted @ bill45053@gmail.com. Connect with him on Facebook @ William T. McConnell or on Twitter @billmc45053 or visit his Amazon Author Page @ Amazon

Faith and Trust

Something that is probably obvious to others has only recently become clear in my mind. Faith and trust are different. One is built on the other but they are not the same thing.

If I go to the dictionary for help I usually don’t find much help. Looking at Faith I found:

1. Confidence or trust in a person or thing:
2. Belief that is not based on proof:
3. Belief in God or in the doctrines or teachings of religion:
4. Belief in anything, as a code of ethics, standards of merit, etc.:
5. A system of religious belief.”

Faith can’t be proved by the scientific method. Many things can’t but because it can’t be “proven” it is easily dismissed by many in the scientific community. For some odd reasons, some people of faith want to debate the issue with those who dismiss belief in God because it can’t be proven. That is a real waste of time because the two sides can’t be debated because there is not common ground or a set of shared values. Thus, in the end, each side is sure they won the debate because the opposition’s argument made no sense to them. Correctness and victory are in the eyes of the beholder. The victory of the “science guy” is widely held because science has become our modern religious faith system. Most educated within the humanist educational system just assume the scientific method is not to be denied.

Faith believes in things unseen and the un-seeable. The author of Hebrews put it like this. Now faith is confidence in what we hope for and assurance about what we do not see. This is what the ancients were commended for. (Hebrews 11:1-2 NIV) A person of faith believes in something one doesn’t see but we can often see the results of the existence of that which is unseen. The Bible mentions the wind. It moves about and we can’t see it but we can feel it on our faces and see the leaves on the trees being stirred. Another example of an unseen force is love. I can’t see love as a force but I have seen love at work and have felt the impact of love on my life.

To know God and have a relationship with God, one must have faith in God. God is not seen. When I share with non-believers that I have never seen God but have seen God at work, they tend to dismiss such talk as silly because their belief system has no room for God – no room for the unseen and unprovable. They can’t believe me because to do so would call for a complete recalibration of their core values. And that is way too difficult and too much work.

Much of what we read in scripture is about faith. We talk about faith. We seek to have more faith. But Hebrews tells us that faith is a part of the Christian’s Elementary education. Therefore let us move beyond the elementary teachings about Christ and be taken forward to maturity, not laying again the foundation of repentance from acts that lead to death, and of faith in God, instruction about cleansing rites, the laying on of hands, the resurrection of the dead, and eternal judgment. And God permitting, we will do so. (Hebrews 6:1-3 NIV) Faith is basic to all that Believers understand about God and the things of the Kingdom of God. It is one of the foundation blocks upon which we build. Faith is necessary to coming to know God and for growing spiritually.

Faith, practiced, is powerful. We see that in a couple of stories of faith recorded by Matthew. Just then a woman who had been subject to bleeding for twelve years came up behind him and touched the edge of his cloak. She said to herself, “If I only touch his cloak, I will be healed.” Jesus turned and saw her. “Take heart, daughter,” he said, “your faith has healed you.” And the woman was healed at that moment. When Jesus entered the synagogue leader’s house and saw the noisy crowd and people playing pipes, he said, “Go away. The girl is not dead but asleep.” But they laughed at him. After the crowd had been put outside, he went in and took the girl by the hand, and she got up. News of this spread through all that region. As Jesus went on from there, two blind men followed him, calling out, “Have mercy on us, Son of David!” When he had gone indoors, the blind men came to him, and he asked them, “Do you believe that I am able to do this?” “Yes, Lord,” they replied. Then he touched their eyes and said, “According to your faith let it be done to you”; and their sight was restored. Jesus warned them sternly, “See that no one knows about this.” Matthew 9:20-31 (NIV)

Without trust, faith is fragile. Trust is built when faith is put to work and produces results. When one starts to experience the results of putting one’s faith in God one begins to trust God. For the mature Christian, faith is no longer an issue because, by living a life of faith, we have come to trust God.

When I think of faith and trust I think of my relationship with my wife, Nancy. Before I met her I had faith in love and that I would someday meet the love of my life. I couldn’t see love. I had not yet experienced loving someone in that way. I wasn’t sure I had ever seen that kind of relationship in action. But I had faith it could happen. All I had was that precarious faith in an unseen possibility. And then I met Nancy. And our relationship grew as we experienced each other and life together. As our relationship grew my trust grew. Do I have faith in Nancy? Sure. But more than that, I trust Nancy.

As long as we seek to prove or disprove God according to the scientific method we will fail. Instead I encourage you to experience God. God is not to be proven; the Living God is to be experienced through a vital and growing daily relationship. Trust me on this. J

Copyright © 2014, William T. McConnell, All Rights Reserved

Bill McConnell is Senior Minister at Lindenwood Christian Church in Memphis, Tennessee and is a Church Transformation consultant and a Christian Leadership Coach. He is a frequent speaker at Church Transformation events. He can be contacted @ bill45053@gmail.com. Connect with him on Facebook @ https://www.facebook.com/pages/William-T-McConnell/812462358785951 or on Twitter @bill45053.

Like or Love... Humm

My wife, Nancy, and I just celebrated out 25^th wedding anniversary. For a guy my age, that is not a huge number. Most of the couples I know around my age are looking at 40 plus years of marriage. All I can tell you is that I am a slow learner. It’s my second marriage. It has taken me a while to figure this relationship thing out.

From the beginning let me say that I like people. I am familiar with like. I know like and I know how to do like. It is love that has been confusing for me. That is not entirely my fault. The first time I ran across love, I didn’t know what it was and I was told that what I was experiencing really wasn’t love. I believed what I was told and that understanding (or misunderstanding) messed with me for most of my life. It negatively impacted some of the most important relationships I formed. Not knowing what love was… what it looked like… what it acts like caused me to confuse like for love and to get into relationships that “like” could not sustain.

As I have spent some time musing over my life and looking at the life lessons I have learned, I can, from this vantage point, clearly see how my like/love confusion came into being and the impact it had on my life. When I was 15 years old I fell in love. Her name was Nancy and she was sweet and pretty and kind and smart and fun to be with. Best of all, she loved me.  She must have loved me because she once told my dad that she thought I was beautiful. I really wish she had not done that because it caused me to endure more teasing that most 15 year olds could stand. But she made it clear to me that she really did love me. She, being thoroughly adorable, was easy to love in return. She was about 5’ 2”, dark hair, green eyes and cute as a bug’s ear. She was so pretty she scared me. I never would have considered asking her out because I was sure she would laugh at me. When I did ask, I was floored when she responded positively.

When I say I fell in love, I don’t mean I had a crush on a girl I went to school with. I mean I fell head over heels, flat on my face, I can’t think of anything but you, heart achingly, no holds barred, I would die for you in love. I was completely “et up” with love. She was the first thing on my mind in the morning and the last thing I thought about before sleep came at night. I wanted to spend all my time with her, talking to her, looking at her, touching her, smelling her. I had lost my mind. And I was in heaven. When I say, I lost my mind; I don’t mean it was for a couple of weeks. I lost my mind over her for years.

Now I know that I was in love… really in love. Unfortunately, the adults in my life told me that I was suffering from “puppy love.” Whatever that is. Adults would sagely nod their heads and inform me that what I had wasn’t real love. They said I wasn’t old enough to experience real love. Mine was just a teenage crush. When I got older I would meet the right woman and fall in love. No, I was just suffering from infatuation. They were right about one thing; I was suffering.

Having been assured that what I was experiencing was not the real thing and that the best was yet to come, I failed to invest completely in the relationship. After suffering through several breakups and reconciliations, Nancy decided that she could no longer deal with trying to have a relationship with me and she moved on. And so did I. We went our separate ways and off to college.

While in college I dated several wonderful girls. I fell into “like” with one in particular and we were engaged. But the relationship was unsustainable and we parted company. My senior year I found a wonderful girl and fell deeply in like. She was pretty, kind, smart, talented and she really liked me. We were married. We were together for 16 years and had four awesome children. We shared many good years and really enjoyed our children. Liking someone is important in marriage. I would never suggest marrying someone you don’t like. But like is not enough. And it was not enough for us. The marriage fell apart and great was the fall thereof.

And then it happened again. I fell in love. Her name was (is) Nancy. (Coincident? Odd? Mean something? Beats me.) When it happened it was déjà vu. It took me a while to realize what was happening. It all seemed strangely familiar and yet oddly strange. I finally realized that I had felt like this before… almost exactly a quarter of a century before. But with the seasoning and understanding that those years had brought, I realized that I had fallen in love and, this time, I knew love when I saw it. Nobody was going to convince me, this time around, that it was a passing feeling; a shallow, childish crush; puppy love. This time I recognized it as love.

It has been 25 years and I am still head over heels, flat on my face, I can’t think of anything but her, heart achingly, no holds barred, I would die for you in love. I am completely “et up” with love. She is the first thing on my mind in the morning and the last thing I think about before sleep comes at night. I want to spend all my time with her; talking to her, looking at her, touching her, smelling her. I lost my mind over her 25 years ago and I still haven’t managed to find the danged thing. I like her… but, more than that, I am in love.

Copyright © 2013, William T. McConnell, All Rights Reserved