Mother’s Faith Saved Me

This story is inspired by Mark 7:24–30.

I tossed and turned on my mat. I didn’t know how long I could stand this. Why me? People told my mom I was possessed. That made me scared. I felt hopeless.

Then I heard my mom and older sister talking. The neighborhood buzzed with news of a healer named Jesus. “He’s trying to remain unrecognized, but juicy news spreads fast,” my sister said.

If he sought rest from his busy healing ministry, that didn’t matter to my mom. She wrapped herself in her cloak and said she would not be back until she could convince him to help me. She said, “I’ll do whatever it takes to see you healed.”

Living in the land of Canaan with my mom and sister, I’ve seen a mishmash of different religions and devotions. That is, I had seen them back when I had been well. What did I believe? Who was God for me?

I knew my mom meant well by chasing after this Jesus, but I doubted he could help me. I was on the doorstep of despair.

Everyone who knows my mom agrees she is persistent. She would do anything out of love for me. She is determined, resilient, faith-filled, and my role model. And she would never leave me alone in my condition. I thank God for my sister, whose love is unconditional.

When Mama left, my older sister sat with me to protect me from hurting myself. “Let’s pray,” she said. She’s a woman of strong faith too. She tried to get me to hope that Jesus could really do something. Where did she and my mom get their faith?

I wondered if my mother’s foolish errand to Jesus would come to anything. How could I believe in an answer I hadn’t seen yet?

“O God,” I whispered. “My mom and sister believe you can cure me. I am powerless. I doubt things will ever change. I honestly don’t know how to pray.”

The room suddenly filled with light like sunrise. An array of colors rotated before me. Simultaneously my skin warmed all over. I opened my eyes and was surprised by a vision of a man with a beard bending over me. I felt his gentle breath on my face as he said, “Your mother’s faith has healed you.” I opened my eyes and saw no one other than my sister. And I was instantly well. I stood and walked over to the basin to wash my face.

My sister stared at me in amazement. “What just happened?” she asked me.

In awe I returned to my mat to ponder. Just then our mother burst in with a look of joyous anticipation. “I knew it!” she exclaimed, running to me. “You are well!”

I fell into her arms with joyful tears. “Yes!” I said. “I am well!”

My mother cried and hugged me even harder. “It was Jesus,” she said. “I met Jesus.”

“I think I met him too,” I replied slowly, remembering his holy breath. Mama’s amazed look preceded another tight hug. I asked her to tell me what Jesus was like.

“At first he did not respond in the way I expected. Some people took it as downright rude. But I thought, ‘Maybe he’s testing me to find out how much I really want this.’ So I countered with another plea.”

“Your faith caused this healing,” I told her. “Mine was too weak.”

She smiled.

• Whose faith bolsters yours when you feel low?
• How do you advocate for others in hopeless situations?
• If you experienced Jesus’ miraculous healing power, how would it change you?

Image: The Chirk Cabinet: Christ and the Canaanite Woman, National Trust, public domain, via Wikimedia Commons.