Part 3: The Power of Healing
The power of healing is not up to us. It belongs to a higher power.
He could feel the colour of electric purple coming out of his hands. He couldn’t quite see it, but he knew it was there. It always was, every time he did healing.
They called him the Hallelujah man, because whenever he was in town, there was a lot of jumping up and down and singing and clapping and praising the Lord. And somebody always went home healed.
“I don’t know who I’d be, if I wasn’t a Hallelujah man,” he laughed. “Just a nobody, I guess. Just plain ol’ Tom Smith like it says on my ID card.”
And he laughed again, a low rumbling sound like thunder off the mountains. And that’s just where Tom “Hallelujah Man” Smith had come from. Those mountains were pure gold. They brought him peace and sanity when his time was running out. And they healed him so that he could heal others.
The colour of electric purple was not the healing itself, just a sign, evidence that it was occurring, or had occurred. It was like a ribbon tied up on a birthday present. Just a decoration for the real thing.
But it made Tom Smith know it was happening, and it encouraged him, let him know that all was in order. The healing power was coming through, like it had every day since that morning on the mountain when the Light had revealed itself to him.
He was about to go into the Hallelujah tent that had been set up that night for a healing service in a little town just south of the State line. Already there were people lined up to the door, and wheelchairs and canes everywhere. Why, somebody even brought in his sick mother still lying in her bed!
As he walked into the tent, a cheer rose up from the bleachers and the singing turned to shouts of Hallelujah! and Praise the Lord!
Tom stood right in the middle of the platform and raised his arms high. He could feel the tingling in his hands as the energy flowed through. The electric purple was all around his fingers and he could see it now, emanating at least a foot out from him. Oh, the power was here, all right. No doubt about that. Somebody was going to get healed tonight.
The singing stopped and a hush came over the crowd. They all watched Tom, waiting. There was a lot of pain in here tonight, and a lot of worry. Some of these people had serious illnesses and many without a cure. Tom was their last hope.
Tom was just a simple man, not much education, and only a few skills of survival that had got him this far in the world. But he had been given a gift. A few years back, when he had been on death’s door in the mountains, attacked by a cougar, he had been saved by the Hand of God, as he put it. Something had miraculously saved his life, and from that day on, he had turned that precious blessing into a gift for others. He had been anointed to heal.
The air was electric, not just around Tom, but in the whole tent. For those with the gift of inner sight, there were colours throughout the bleachers, on the walls of the tent, on the dirt floor. There were Beings of Light everywhere, hovering around the people, the sick and the well. For those who had the eyes to see, the power was evident.
Even those who could not see the Spirit must have been feeling it, for the Presence was powerful. Little babies were smiling in their sleep. The old lady in the bed felt relaxed for the first time in years. Those with aching bodies did not feel the aching now. All they felt was something miraculous. This was the power.
As he spoke, the energy in the room got stronger and stronger. Then suddenly, it grew very quiet. He looked all around the tent and pointed to one small girl sitting near the front. She was crippled and sat lop-sided in her wheelchair.
“Come here,” he said.
Her mother pushed her up to the front of the stage where Tom could reach her with his hands. He raised his arms and the electric purple burned out of them. He raised them higher and the power of white Light emanated from his whole being, and enveloped the child. For several seconds he stood there with his hands raised, then brought them down gently on the child’s head. She did not move, but those with the power of sight saw two angels appear on either side. They were holding her upright. Slowly, she got up from her chair and walked to Tom. The crowd did not make a sound. There was a hush. Then suddenly, the girl raised her arms, put her head back and said, “Hallelujah!” And the crowd burst out shouting and praising God.
There were hundreds of people healed in the tent that night. When Tom finally left, only a few had not been healed, and he promised he would come back for them in a month for another service.
“Some things take time,” he said. “And it is always the will of God. It’s not my call.”
And those who were not healed were grateful for his words. It was a comfort just to be in that tent when others had been healed.
Still, some of them were very sad. Their miracle had not come. At least not yet. Would it ever?
Tom went back to the mountains where he rested. He knew that the power of healing was not his to command. He wished that everyone could be healed and the world would be a perfect place. But he also knew it was not up to him.
He looked up at the stars that night, in all their glory in a black sky.
“Thank you, Lord, my God, in all your wonder,” he said.
And he curled up in his bed that night and slept soundly, the sleep of one who has exhausted all his energy on the living and needed to replenish his spirit.
But that night, someone came stalking him. It was not one who had not been healed but it was someone who had. She was angry at having to stay on earth. And angrier that Tom had made it happen.
She walked up behind the cabin and set it on fire. It almost destroyed poor Tom as he lay sleeping. But he heard a sound and raced out just in time. He caught the woman behind the trees and demanded to know what she was doing.
“Aren’t you the lady who got healed tonight?” he asked.
“I am,” she replied, “and no thanks to you!”
She explained that she was not happy in her life. Her family was mean to her and just waiting for her to die so they could have her money. She would be glad to go.
Tom listened patiently and he understood, but it was hard for him because he had always felt that healing was a good thing. How could it be wrong to save someone from death or sickness? This was his calling. Didn’t God want him to do this? After the woman left he sat down outside his burned cabin, his head in his hands, and asked the Almighty what to do now.
“I am at your command,” he said.
He heard a rushing of wind and a giant bird flew overhead. It landed on the side of his burned out porch. The bird looked at Tom and put its head to one side, as if trying to figure him out.
“Your gift is finished,” the bird explained. “Come with me.”
He reached out his giant wing for Tom to climb on board. What else could Tom do? He held on tight as the bird flew higher and higher into the sky. They passed the moon and stars until they came to a place that was all light. There the bird set Tom down in the middle of a green field, with a deep blue stream running by.
“Why am I here?” Tom asked. He did not understand.
He sat there for a long time until finally someone showed up. It was a woman dressed in a long golden gown. She seemed to be translucent. Her skin glowed and her eyes sparkled with the light of a thousand stars. She beckoned to him, and he came and sat at her feet.
“I am Esmerelda,” she smiled. “My mission is to teach spiritual healing. Come with me.”
And she took him along a winding path beside the stream, with lovely white flowers and singing birds. It was an idyllic place, and did not seem quite real.
“Oh, it’s real, all right,” she smiled at him. “In fact, it is more real than anything you have seen before.”
She led them to a hilltop where they could look down on the valley below. She paused and stared into his eyes.
“Tom,” she said. “You need to stop healing people. It’s not in the stars.”
“But why?” he exclaimed. “People depend on me. They
need healing.”
Then Esmerelda showed him what was happening in the village down below. There was chaos in the homes where people had been healed. Just because their bodies were stronger did not mean their spirits had changed. Some had used their new strength to be unkind to others. Some had flaunted it like jewels. Only a few really appreciated what they had been given, and even they took most of the credit.
“Where is the lesson?” Esmerelda asked. “Most of these people have not gained anything from their healing. In fact, if they had remained sick it would have served as an important life lesson for them and their family. Others would have shown compassion. The Karma would be worked off. But when you healed them, they lost the lesson and will have to start all over again. Some of these people will get sicker, or someone else in the family will have to take it on.”
Tom was shocked, but now he understood. What he had seen as a gift was not really a gift at all. It was interfering with the universe’s plan.
“I am sorry,” he said sadly.
But Esmerelda just laughed and told him not to be silly. “It’s not your fault,” she smiled. “You have learned an important lesson and that’s all that matters.”
She vanished into the night sky, and the giant bird came to take Tom home.
The next day he went to the healing centre and told everyone that he could no longer heal their bodies. Instead, he wanted to try and heal their souls.
“That’s all that really matters,” he explained. “The body