oil on my hands

It was around 2:00 p.m. when I sat down to lunch with my family yesterday afternoon...and though I had washed my hands, I noticed that there was still a smudge of oil on my hand from yesterday's services at Eastview (at first, I thought it was the greasy taco I was eating - yea...taco bell drive through - ugh). I was reminded of the powerful healing prayer time we held at the end of each service yesterday morning. With containers of olive oil, kleenex, and kneeling benches, the elders stood at the front of the auditorium and ministered as shepherds to the flock. And the sheep came...hundreds of them. And we prayed for healing... ...for a baby who is showing some developmental deficiencies...for an older woman who is losing her eyesight...for way too many depressed people...for marriages...for a little girl to walk...for healing from a recurring sin...for the habit of cutting to go away...for feelings of unworthiness...for a Down's syndrome child...for children with autism... I could go on. In a word, it was powerfully healing. You may ask, "was everyone healed?" I would say "Yes". Maybe they won't all receive the exact request in the exact way, but each did submit by faith to the only one who can save them. This is called faith and faith in God is healing in and of itself. When I turn to Him for my answers, for my pain, for my future - I know He loves me and will guide me and ultimately heal me! So I would say everyone who came forward yesterday was healed. And when I saw the oil on my hands, I was reminded of the pain I had prayed over. Perhaps I should put oil on my hand every Sunday to remind me that I'm preaching to people who are hurting. In fact, this is why I preach. We all need healing and have received it through Jesus...who has blood on His hands.