whole.

"In this life, traces of [separation from God] are still with us. We are inseparably linked to our unredeemed flesh. Our bodies are mortal. Not just the bones and muscles, glands and senses, but mind and emotion as well. That vast, unbelievably intricate, electronic, chemical complex which is culturally, genetically, diabolically (at times), geographically, and pathologically-influenced mortality."                                          --James Bryan Smith//The Good and Beautiful God

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Probably the most important lesson that I continue to learn with anxiety is that there is a distinction between wholeness and healing. It is subtle, yes, but hugely important: the difference between an attitude of thanksgiving versus resentment, understanding versus confusion, freedom versus shame. I willed healing for my anxiety by the mantra: "God is a healer, thus God wants me healed." I started with scripture about God's ability to heal things crazy enough as demon possession and blindness and even raising life from the dead, then added my own deductions about God's vision of restoration and his love for me personally only to find myself with a sense of entitlement for God's healing and a shame that it had not yet happened. Then, the tension of evaluating what healing really means for us now.

My first understanding of healing was created in utero. Before I was even born, I was the granddaughter-great granddaughter-niece-cousin-second cousin-third cousin of a doctor. A very intelligent man or woman trained to fix our broken bodies. Any sickness, an antibiotic. Anything broken, reset. We never stayed sick because we always had the resources, the intelligence and the sense of self-worth to fix our broken selves. With my anxiety, resources, intelligence and self-worth were called into question--God was the only solution.

Is it just me or do we have a tendency to approach God as if He is the man in a white coat with prescription pad waiting? Whatever works, I'll take it. 14 days, twice a day until--ta da!--you're healed, good as new. When my anxiety hit, my first response was to pray to this highly trained doctor-God. Pray that God would take it away, pray that God would heal my mind and adjust my neural pathways, giving me new chemicals and new brain cells. I was asking and hoping for a miracle. At times, it was so severe that I would sleep with my bible under my pillow, to rest my head on scripture, hoping that healing would come through osmosis. It was a theologically incorrect act of desperation, as many of us will take when living in pain, shame or isolation due to illness.

The theology of healing is complex, but when we see God as only the keeper of the means for physical healing, we miss a beautiful opportunity to expand our definition of "healer" and see a bigger picture for our lives. 

"He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds."     -Psalms 147:3

Anybody who has dealt with any kind of chronic illness--physical or mental--longs to know God as a healer. Tangible healing. But sometimes, God chooses not to use your body for a miracle. Sometimes, you are not the woman whose bleeding is stopped or the man whose sight is restored. Sometimes, your body continues its natural progression toward death. When our desired definition of healing doesn't come, we have to ask--"What does healing mean?" It just might be a question of semantics for our scientific world.

Enter: wholeness versus healing.

Heal: the act or process of becoming well; the state of your physical body

Whole: unbroken, not damaged; an indicator of your identity in Christ

Biblically speaking, healing always carries with it the idea of "wholeness." That is to say, wholeness is a crucial part of healing. When Jesus heals, He always restores. With every healing act, we are given a tangible sign of eternity. He reverses the pull of death for just a moment and we see fullness of life restored. Souls feel their worth and lives are brought back into relationship, brought out of isolation.

• The Woman with the Flow of Blood (Mark 5)
• Blind Man Receives His Sight (Mark 10)
• A Woman Has Seven Demons Cast Out (Mark 16)

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But, healing is not a crucial part of wholeness. Our bodies are in a state of decay--it's undeniable. We were never promised to live with these bones forever. And yet, one can be made whole even as bodies decay, even with a chemical imbalance or bodily malfunction. One can still be restored in the eyes of God and community without being physically healed. More often than not in our world, this is the case. Illness of any kind can leave us with a sense of being broken, ashamed, isolated--little thieves of abundant lives. But Jesus came for abundant life and wholeness is a byproduct of knowing Him. His life reverses the death in us. Wholeness from Him tells us who we are, binds up our broken hearts, removes shame and graces us with relationship with Him. 

That is the gift of wholeness that physical healing alone cannot give. I take great comfort in that as I recognize that anxiety may be a forever-ailment. To live out of my wholeness in the midst of anxiety, knowing that there will come a day when anxiety is put to rest, when my flesh is redeemed. Until then...

I am not healed, but I am whole.