I think perhaps the greatest of all hindrances in our getting hold of God for our bodies is the lack of knowing Him, for after all, in its deepest essence Divine healing is not a thing; it is not an experience; it is not an “it.” It is the revelation of Jesus Christ as a living, almighty Person, and then the union of this living Christ with your body, so that there becomes a tie, a bond, a living link by which His life keeps flowing into yours, and because He lives you shall live also.
Begin to rejoice in the Lord, and your bones will flourish like an herb, and your cheeks will glow with the bloom of health and freshness. Worry, fear, distrust, care-all are poisonous! Joy is balm and healing, and if you will but rejoice, God will give power.
The beauty and holiness of creatures are ensnaring and dangerous. A man may make an idol out of them, and indulge himself beyond the bounds of moderation with them, but there is no danger of excess in the love of Christ. The soul is then in the healthiest frame and temper when it is most overwhelmed by love to Christ.
I am inwardly fashioned for faith, not for fear. Fear is not my native land; faith is. I am so made that worry and anxiety are sand in the machinery of life; faith is the oil. I live better by faith and confidence than by fear, doubt and anxiety. In anxiety and worry, my being is gasping for breath – these are not my native air. But in faith and confidence, I breathe freely – these are my native air. A John Hopkins University doctor says, “We do not know why it is that worriers die sooner than the non-worriers, but that is a fact.” But I, who am simple of mind, think I know; We are inwardly constructed in nerve and tissue, brain cell and soul, for faith and not for fear. God made us that way. To live by worry is to live against reality.
The reason that people do not have a rich, beautiful faith is that their spirit is denied the privilege of communion and fellowship with the Father.
Lord, save us from worrying, lest ulcers be our badge for our lack of faith.
Mirth is God’s medicine. Everybody ought to bathe in it. Grim care, moroseness, anxiety – all this rust of life ought to be scoured off by the oil of mirth. It is better than emery. Every man ought to rub himself with it.