My story begins in the Fall of 1997 and may strike many as incredulous perhaps even absurd. In the fall of 1997 I had been privy to seeing many miracles in our church of a physical nature. During that same time I had an accident while chopping wood that injured my shoulder. I went to an orthopedic surgeon. The surgeon said there was a good possibility that my injury was a torn rotator cuff. After months of physical therapy with no improvement the surgeon became more definite about the injury and suggested surgery. The funny thing about this was since I had never had surgery before I thought it was no big deal. In the back of my mind I thought perhaps I should just believe God for this healing. After all he was not having any problem healing other people. In fact a RN had just been healed in our church of the very same injury. I knew God could do it. But I thought to myself "it's too hard to have faith for this." Besides it would be nice to have a few days off. Boy was I wrong. The surgery went well but I can still remember how it felt when the morphine wore off. Man did it hurt. I also can remember the doctor after surgery saying, "the surgery took a little longer than expected." Right away I knew what that meant--more recovery time. I was right. The shoulder took a full year before it was anywhere near full range of motion.

Well all of this is merely prelude because in December of 1999 my other shoulder went out. I couldn't believe it! It felt much more pronounced then the first torn rotator cuff injury that had previously led to surgery. My prospects looked dim. At first my emotions got the better of me and I really became frustrated at the prospect of another surgery. Since I had been through the first one I pretty much knew how it felt to have a torn rotator cuff. As a result I went to the surgeon again ominously waiting for the pronouncement. He told me that we would go the same route as before starting with physical therapy and moving to surgery if the physical therapy did not work. I asked him to give it to me straight on the extent of the injury. He noted that it didn't look good but that I should probably understand that. I did.

Over the next few months I began to become foreboding about the prospect of surgery and recovery on this other arm. In fact I really didn't tell too many people about the injury because I was one of the people up at the altar praying for other people to be healed. In fact there was more than once when I was praying for others to be healed that I would silently pray, "Lord remember me." Other times when people were healed I had to restrain the "poor me attitude" of "why Lord are others being healed when I am not?" This was particularly true when I was the one praying for them and they would get healed. But I was aware that getting angry at God or feeling self pity would only hurt my cause. I tried the best I could to have faith in the Lord's healing touch. In this I learned a lot about faith. Since I have not had many serious injuries since I have been saved this was something new to me. In fact I would even wonder previously why people had such a hard time having faith for a healing when they could see the power of God all around them. Now I know. Pain has a way of sapping what little faith we often have. The sensations of pain can be so overwhelming that they sometimes pull faith out of the Lord's healing touch. When there is pain we often focus on that pain because it is pain. Simply put it is easier to be healed of something you don't feel than a persistent pain that is ever present. I think this is why there are so many cancer healings in the beginning stages of cancer. As time goes on we accept the reality of the pain as reality over against the reality of God's power. There is a duel or war for ultimate reality. Pain has a way of convincing us that its reality is more pervasive than the reality of God's power.

Yet, I could see the dueling realities right before me. In fact I represented the dueling realities in my person. On the one hand I was praying for people and I was seeing them healed. On the other hand I was feeling the pain of my injury--sometimes even when I prayed. This pain, by its very nature, was limiting and at times searing. It was a brutal reminder of the previous trauma. Which reality was greater? Somewhere inside of me and at differing levels at various times I sought God's healing touch. Sometimes when my faith was weak and my pain was great I would begin to get angry at God. Even seeing others healed did not encourage my faith because instantly that faith was met with the reality of pain. Yet it really didn't make sense that God would heal others in our congregation of illnesses and in the RN's case even the very same illness. I also knew the congregation would look to me for faith. What was I to do? Slowly each Sunday I began to venture out in faith. By this I do not mean any great faith. What I mean is that I slowly literally began to lift my arm during worship. Each time I lifted it, I would feel the limitation of the injury pulling me back down towards defeat. I would feel the pain reminding me that I was injured. Yet as I focused on the songs of power and healing I felt determined to "push it." To push my faith to the point where I would be free of the limitation and the pain. As I literally lifted my arms above my head I felt the limitations pressed by my desire to be free. At first I'll tell you it didn't feel any different. All I felt was pain. But as I persisted I began to notice, "hey, I can lift my arm above my head." Inside I was rejoicing. Of course I didn't tell anybody. I realized that I still wasn't completely healed. But little by little each week I lifted my hand higher and my arm further. After a few weeks of doing this I realized I was totally healed. I went back to the doctor. He ran me through the battery of contortions to test my range of motion. Of course I knew already what the outcome of the exercises would turn up. The surgeon looked up at me and said, "Joe you've made my day. I see no reason for you to go to physical therapy and there is certainly no need for surgery." I was healed. Because I knew how the first torn rotator felt that wasn't healed there was no doubt in my mind about the supernatural nature of this healing.

The Lord did a couple of healings with me in this episode of a rotator cuff healing. First, he gave me a bird's eye view of the struggle that people in pain go through to have faith--even a faith that they acknowledge to be a correct view of reality. The view is challenged accosted and even threatened by pain. In this sense it is easy to understand why there are not more healings even among those who believe.

Second, it is important to remember that while we are called to be compassionate "to those who weep," this is by no means a license to sell the power of Christ short or even to allow for destructive patterns of behavior to be sanctioned through empathy. During my ordeal I felt all of the things that people feel with the problem of pain. I had suggested to me, toyed with and thought all of the negative things that people feel in pain. However I required myself to be faithful to my presuppositions. I had to make a decision as to what the ultimate reality was in my life. Was it the pain I was presently feeling? Or was it the healing power of Christ that I saw before me? Did I believe that He could heal me? Or was my pain greater than my Christ? As noted, I was not entirely consistent in my expression of faith. It fluctuated. But at a certain point I made a decision as to what I ultimately believed. Again, this was ever present for me in that each Sunday I prayed for people to be healed. And even though this may seem inconsistent I will tell you it was not as inconsistent as it might seem. I believed God could, would, and did heal others--it was just my healing where I lacked faith. Not because I was any worse off than anybody else or because I was some slug. No it was simply because I was not privy to their pain. Even if I could detect the pain in others I did not experience the sensation of pain.

Third, pain and limitation are not the final word. The final word is Christ and the power of the Holy Spirit. No I was not perfect in faith. But that is the point. You don't have to be. Jesus said even a little bit of faith (a mustard seed) will move the mountain into the sea. It took me a while to examine my presuppositions but in the end the undergirding of my faith pointed to a greater reality than my pain. And believe me when I say I can understand when it doesn't happen. Pain is a powerful force that can easily convince most thinking people. But most thinking people don't think enough. The very premise of thought has within it the thought of greater thought in order for that thought to be consistent in its logical coherence. This is true of all evil. We can only understand as evil because there is ultimate good.

Finally, I learned that we need to exercise the faith that God gives us. Even, if it is a little bit. Don't fake it either. The only one faked out is generally you. But real faith does move mountains. It must. In fact it is the acid test of faith--did the mountain move? Don't give up no matter what you feel or no matter how matter how great the pain may be. There is something greater. It is that something to which we must continually stretch out our hands to be free of whatever binds us.