The Good News

It was two months ago when I had my last test on the level of SGPT in my blood. Now, I am back in the clinic to have a final one – hopeful that somehow, what skyrocketed into a 4000 something and went down to a still-high 600, will now be within the normal range of 0 to 36.

While waiting for the results, a mother holding her 1 month old baby boy entered the clinic. The baby looked healthy, but I knew looks could be deceiving. When the mother handed over several sheets of paper to the receptionist, I knew certain tests will be done.

After being told of how much it will cost them, the mother agreed. I imagined she found it expensive but agreed anyways. “All for love for her son,” I thought.

When the medical technologist came out to have a look at the baby, that’s when I noticed that something was terribly wrong. Here I was, Blood-bought, Spirit-empowered, and I was doing nothing. I was feeling nothing.

And so I asked the Lord what was I to do? Go over there and lay my hands on the child?

What will my doctor think? I sure prayed for a miracle when I was bedridden three months ago with Hepatitis A, but didn’t receive any.

What will the mother say? My mere presence in the clinic means I need the doctor’s help myself.

I had these thoughts racing their way in my mind when I asked God a simple petition: let me see what’s going on through your Eyes.

And that was enough. Before I knew it, tears came. I was successful to somehow control it so what was supposed to be a torrent of emotion became a drizzle of controlled compassion.

My heart ached at the thought of me not doing anything. It broke altogether knowing that cowards like me populate the pews as well.

I have never heard God speak ever so clearly than that time. “They need to hear the Good News, James.”

The Good News. Not a preaching on hell’s fire. Not a sermonette of do’s and don’ts.

Just the simple unadulterated fact that the sick can get their healing – the blind their sight, the deaf their hearing, the mute their voice… that the prisoners can acquire their freedom – the demonized, the addict, the harlot, the homosexual their deliverance… that, most of all, forgiveness is available for every sinner here and now.

Simply put, a clean slate.

It’s funny because all I could muster was a faint smile to somehow show the worried mother that everything will be all right with her son. And though a bit too late, a prayer now as well, that besides healing for the baby, she will come to know the God who came to die that she may have life to the full – her family included.

Ah, I learned a lot in that short time of waiting for my results. What happened could just as well be an answer to a commitment I made earlier to God – to pursue big dreams this year… dreams that are set to fail if God doesn’t show up. Why include Him in the picture if I could do it all alone in the first place?

Going back to my result, my SGPT is now at 31. What usually takes 6 months to fully recover; I got mine in less than a half of that.

Now if you'll excuse me, I’ve got Goliaths to slay.

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