“There never was such misery as mine,” said poor, sick Barbara as she tossed restlessly on the hospital bed. “I don’t think there ever was such pain!”
“Once,” was faintly whispered from the next bed.
Barbara paused for a minute, then in a still more impatient voice resumed her complaint: “Nobody knows what I feel. Nobody ever suffered more pain!”
“One,” was again whispered from the same direction.
“You mean yourself, poor thing, but―”
“Oh, not myself―not me!” exclaimed Lucie. She spoke so earnestly that her restless companion lay still for several seconds and stared at her.
“Oh, not myself―not me!” she repeated softly. There was a short pause and then the following words, spoken in the same low key, broke the midnight silence: “And when they had platted a crown of thorns, they put it upon His head, and a reed in His right hand: and they bowed the knee before Him, and mocked Him, saying, Hail, King of the Jews! And they spit upon Him, and took the reed, and smote Him on the head…. And when they were come unto a place called Golgotha… they gave Him vinegar to drink mingled with gall…. And they crucified Him…. And they that passed by reviled Him, wagging their heads…. And about the ninth hour Jesus cried with a loud voice, saying… My God, My God, why hast Thou forsaken Me?” (Matthew 27:29-46).
The voice ceased, and for several minutes not a word was spoken. The night nurse came in and refilled the pitchers of water by both beds.
“Thank you, nurse,” said Lucie. “They gave Him gall for His meat, and in His thirst they gave Him vinegar to drink!”
“She is talking about Jesus Christ,” said Barbara, already beginning to toss restlessly from side to side again. “But,” she added, “talking about His sufferings can’t help ours―at least not mine.”
“But it lightens hers,” said the nurse. “I wonder how?”
The gentle voice again took up the strain: “Surely He hath borne our griefs, and carried our sorrows…. He was wounded for our transgressions, He was bruised for our iniquities: the chastisement of our peace was upon Him; and with His stripes we are healed” (Isaiah 53:4-5).
“Healed! That’s a blessed word; I wish I was healed!”
Barbara was healed―healed in both body and soul. What the doctors and nurses with the Lord’s help accomplished for the healing of her body in the hospital, her quiet night talks with Lucie did for her soul. Before she was dismissed, well and strong again, Barbara was able to say with truth, “He was bruised for my iniquities: the chastisement of my peace was upon Him; and with His stripes I am healed”!
Adapted from He Giveth Life.Email This Post