Category Archives: Healing Teaching

A Church Discussion in Savannah: Healing

It was a bright and warm evening in Savannah, a city known for its legendary hospitality and breathtaking beauty. The historic district, with its repurposed cotton warehouses, majestic churches, and lush, moss-draped squares, provided a perfect backdrop for a gathering at one of the town’s welcoming church halls.

Hazel, a long-time member of the congregation, stood before the group, her voice steady yet passionate. She was well known for her deep faith and love for sharing God’s Word. That evening, she spoke about the mercy of God and the power of healing. The discussion, inspired by the truth of the scriptures, was both uplifting and deeply moving.

Hazel began, “Friends, I want to share with you some of the best news you will ever hear: Mercy is unearned, undeserved, and unmerited. It is a gift from God, freely given, just like salvation, forgiveness, and healing.”

She paused, letting her words sink in. The congregation listened intently, nodding in agreement. “Many believe that if they are good enough, God will reward them with healing,” she continued, “but that’s not how His mercy works. It is not based on our righteousness but on His. Isaiah 64:6 tells us that our righteousness is like filthy rags, but through Jesus, we have been given His righteousness, which is already accepted in heaven.”

The city outside bustled with life, but inside the church, a deep stillness filled the room. Hazel’s words resonated with those who had struggled with the idea that they had to earn their healing.

“People sometimes think they must bargain with God for healing, promising to do better in exchange for it,” she said. “But healing, like salvation, cannot be bought. It is already paid for by the blood of the Lamb. When Simon the Sorcerer tried to buy the power of God, Peter rebuked him sharply, declaring that God’s gifts cannot be purchased (Acts 8:18-20).”

Heads nodded in understanding. It was a message they had heard before, but Hazel made it personal, reminding them that healing, like forgiveness, is a mercy, a divine gift freely given.

She continued, “Mercy means that we do not receive the judgment we deserve, and instead, we receive blessings we did not earn. Throughout the Bible, those who cried out for mercy received healing. The blind men called out, ‘Have mercy on us,’ and Jesus healed them.”

A man in the front row spoke up. “So, healing isn’t about whether we deserve it?”

“Exactly,” Hazel confirmed. “Psalm 86:15 tells us that God is full of compassion, gracious, long-suffering, and abundant in mercy. To question whether healing is God’s will is to question whether He desires to be merciful. But the Bible is clear—He is rich in mercy toward all who call on Him (Ephesians 2:4-5).”

The room was quiet, everyone deep in thought. Then Hazel’s voice grew even firmer, filled with conviction. “If healing depended on our goodness, none of us would ever be healed. It is a mercy, a gift from a loving God who delights in blessing His children.”

After a brief moment of reflection, Hazel continued. “Many people struggle to believe in God’s mercy because they think their mistakes disqualify them from His blessings. But let me tell you about Peter. He denied Christ three times and must have felt so unworthy. Yet, Jesus sought him out after the resurrection, restoring him and commissioning him to feed His sheep (John 21:15-17).”

A few murmurs of agreement echoed through the room. Many had been in Peter’s shoes, feeling like they had failed God too many times to be redeemed.

“This same mercy is available to all of us,” Hazel assured them. “It is the devil’s lie that tells people they must suffer for their past sins before they can receive God’s blessings. Such thinking undermines the sufficiency of Christ’s sacrifice.”

A woman in the back raised her hand. “But what if we’ve really messed up?”

Hazel smiled kindly. “Matthew 14:14 tells us that Jesus was moved with compassion and healed the sick. Among thousands of people, surely there were some who didn’t ‘deserve’ healing by human standards. Yet, He healed them all. His mercy does not discriminate—it is freely given to all who come to Him in faith.”

A sense of relief seemed to wash over the group. They sat up a little straighter, hope rekindling in their hearts.

“People hesitate to seek healing because they feel unworthy,” Hazel continued. “But Jesus didn’t heal based on merit—He healed based on compassion. The sick, the broken, the sinners—all found healing in His presence. His mercy extended to the most unlikely people, proving that healing is not a reward for good behavior but an expression of God’s love.”

A man leaned forward. “Then healing is for all of us?”

Hazel nodded. “Yes! Philippians 2:25-27 tells us about Epaphroditus, a faithful worker for God who became gravely ill. Paul didn’t heal him with his apostolic authority, nor did Epaphroditus’ own faith instantly deliver him. Yet, God had mercy on him and healed him. Healing is always an act of mercy, not a transaction based on worthiness or faithfulness.”

A warmth filled the room as people grasped this truth.

“This truth should encourage all of us,” Hazel declared. “No matter how far we’ve fallen, God’s mercy is still available. No matter how unworthy we feel, His healing power is still at work. Say aloud with me: ‘I have faith in the mercy of God. I believe in the mercy of God.’”

As the congregation repeated the words, the atmosphere in the room shifted. Faith was rising. Hope was being restored.

“The Bible declares that Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, today, and forever (Hebrews 13:8),” Hazel concluded. “Just as He was moved with compassion to heal in the past, He is still healing today. Don’t let guilt, fear, or self-doubt keep you from receiving God’s mercy. Healing is not something you earn—it is a gift already paid for by Jesus Christ. Receive it with faith and thanksgiving, and walk in the fullness of His grace.”

As the discussion came to a close, people lingered, sharing testimonies and prayers. The evening air outside was fresh, the streets of Savannah still alive with movement. But inside the church, something even more beautiful had happened—hearts had been lifted, faith had been strengthened, and the mercy of God had been made real once again.

Eliza Dunn: A Pioneer of Warrnambool’s Wisdom

The land of Warrnambool is ancient. The Merrigundidj people lived there for over 35,000 years. They built stone and timber weirs called yereroc across waterways. These weirs helped them trap eels. They knew the land, its rivers, its secrets.

At the mouth of the Hopkins River, there was a place called Moyjil. There, the Koroitgundidj people lived in a village near what is now Tower Hill. The area was rich in life, with kangaroos gathering to drink at a waterhole called Kunang. The hill known as Puurkar held significance, as did many other places in the region.

Then came the Europeans. The first to explore the land were mariners, men of the sea. In 1800, Lieutenant James Grant sailed the Lady Nelson along the coast. Two years later, Matthew Flinders came with his ship, the Investigator. French explorer Nicholas Baudin followed. They recorded the land, but it was the whalers who truly settled.

By 1838, Captain Alexander Campbell, a Scottish whaler, took possession of 4,000 acres near the Merri River. He built a farm there. The township of Warrnambool was planned soon after, in 1845, and the first land was sold two years later. The Post Office opened in 1849, marking the town’s growth.

Warrnambool grew fast. Whaling gave way to farming, and then came more settlers. Roads were made, and the town spread. But the people of the land—the Merrigundidj—were pushed away. Their weirs crumbled. Their village was gone. The town remembered them only in names: Kunang, Wirkneung, Peetoop. The past lived on, but faintly.

Among the settlers, one woman left a lasting mark. Her name was Eliza Dunn. She wasn’t rich. She wasn’t famous. But she was wise.

Eliza lived near the mouth of the river. Her family had come to farm. She helped in the fields, mended clothes, and kept the house. But what made her special wasn’t her work—it was her understanding.

One year, the rain didn’t stop. The river swelled, and people feared it would flood their homes. Some spoke of moving. But Eliza said, “Wait. The river will find its way.”

Her words seemed simple, but people listened. Eliza watched the river, walking its banks each day. She spoke to the elders, both settlers and the few Aboriginal people who remained. “It will break to the east,” she told them. “It has done so before.”

Her knowledge came not from books, but from listening—listening to the land and those who had lived with it. Sure enough, after days of rain, the river swelled eastward, sparing the town. People marveled at Eliza’s foresight.

One day, she stood by the river, speaking with a young woman from a nearby farm. “How did you know?” the young woman asked.

Eliza smiled. “The land speaks. It tells us what it needs. If we listen, we can live with it.”

Her wisdom spread. Farmers began to consult her on matters of the soil and seasons. When to plant, when to harvest. “What does the land say?” they would ask. And she would answer, always humbly, always with care.

But Eliza’s story was not just about land. She was also known for her kindness. One winter, a traveler came through, cold and hungry. He knocked on Eliza’s door, seeking shelter. She welcomed him in, fed him, and gave him a place to sleep.

“Why are you so kind to strangers?” a neighbor once asked her.

“We are all travelers,” Eliza replied. “Some of us just don’t know it.”

Her words carried weight. Simple truths, spoken softly. People remembered them long after she was gone.

Eliza passed away in her home by the river. She was not rich. She was not powerful. But her wisdom lingered. The town grew and changed, but those who knew her never forgot her words. Her story became part of Warrnambool’s history.

Years later, when the river swelled again, people remembered Eliza. They watched its course, knowing it would find its way, just as she had said.

And so, Warrnambool grew. It became a place of farming and trade. The land, once home to the Merrigundidj, changed hands many times. But the memory of the land’s first people, and the wisdom of settlers like Eliza Dunn, remained. The town carried their stories, woven into its fabric, just as the river wound its way through the hills and out to sea.

Eliza’s words lived on. “The land speaks,” she had said. “If we listen, we can live with it.”

Take Healing Gospel to the Streets

Julie stood in front of the eager congregation, her eyes scanning the crowd. Her voice was steady and calm. “We are called to take the message of healing out of these walls,” she said. “Jesus did it on the streets, in the markets, everywhere. And so can we.”

The group nodded, listening intently. Julie continued, “Healing isn’t just for church services. It’s for the everyday moments. The grocery store, the park, even on your commute. It’s simple: listen to God, step out in faith, and pray for healing.”

She paused. “The world is broken, and people are hurting. But God’s power is still real. He still heals. And He wants to work through us.”

Julie could sense some apprehension in the room. She smiled softly. “You don’t have to be a preacher. You just have to love people and be available. Healing isn’t about you. It’s about God working through you. We just need to show up.”

Hands began to rise with questions. “How do we approach people?” someone asked.

“With love,” Julie replied. “Don’t force it. Just be kind. Start with a simple conversation. Ask if they need prayer. You’ll be surprised how many people are open, especially when they’re in pain. You’re just a vessel, and God will do the rest.”

Julie spoke with confidence, yet her words were gentle. “We’ll practice this together. Then, on Friday night, we’re going downtown to pray for anyone God highlights. You’ll see. It’s not about results. It’s about obedience.”

Chapter 2: The First Steps

The church group gathered again a few days later. Julie opened with a prayer, asking God to fill them with boldness and love. “Remember,” she said, “we’re not going out to argue or debate. We’re here to show people God’s love.”

They practiced in pairs, role-playing simple conversations. One would pretend to be a stranger, the other would offer to pray. The room filled with nervous laughter, but there was a growing sense of excitement.

As they wrapped up, Julie reminded them, “Don’t worry about fancy words. Just keep it real. Ask God to guide you.”

One of the younger members raised his hand. “What if they say no?”

“That’s okay,” Julie answered. “You’re not there to force anything. If they say no, you thank them and bless them anyway. God can still work in their lives, even if they don’t let you pray in that moment.”

The room grew quiet as they realized the simplicity of what Julie was teaching. No pressure, no expectations—just stepping out in faith.

“We’ll meet here Friday night,” Julie said. “And remember, God loves these people more than we ever could. Trust Him to do the heavy lifting.”

Chapter 3: Fred White Arrives

Friday night came quickly. Before they headed out, Julie introduced a guest. “Some of you know my friend Fred White,” she said. “He’s joining us tonight to help.”

The room buzzed with excitement. Fred, a tall man with a big smile, stepped forward. “Hey, guys,” he said. “I’m excited to be here.”

Fred spoke with a casual confidence that put everyone at ease. “I want to share a couple of stories with you,” he began. “Because it’s all about living the kingdom, wherever you are. God works through everyday moments.”

He shared the story of Jessie, a young man he met in a music store. “I wasn’t even looking for ministry. I just wanted to play guitar. But God led me to this guy. His back was messed up, and God healed him right there in the store.”

Fred paused, letting the story sink in. “It’s not about setting up an event. It’s about walking with the Holy Spirit, being ready for what He wants to do. Like with Jessie’s girlfriend—God healed her migraine in a clothing store.”

The crowd was silent, hanging on every word. “This isn’t complicated,” Fred said. “It’s about loving people and letting God show up. You don’t need to know everything. Just be available. Trust me, God loves showing off His goodness.”

Julie smiled as Fred wrapped up. “Alright,” she said, “let’s go show our city some love.”

Chapter 4: On the Streets

The group divided into teams and headed downtown. It was a busy Friday night, people were everywhere—shopping, eating, laughing. The church members were nervous at first, but Julie reminded them to relax and let God lead.

One team approached a man sitting on a bench, his head down. They offered to pray, and he hesitated at first, but finally agreed. As they prayed, his eyes filled with tears. “I needed this,” he whispered.

Another group met a young woman who was limping. They asked if they could pray for her ankle. She smiled nervously but said, “Sure, why not?” After they prayed, she walked without pain for the first time in weeks.

Throughout the night, team after team came back with similar stories. People were being touched by God’s love in simple ways. Julie and Fred moved among the groups, encouraging and praying alongside them.

It was an evening filled with divine encounters. People who never would have stepped into a church were experiencing God’s presence in the middle of their city.

Chapter 5: The Celebration

After the outreach, the group gathered back at the church. There was an atmosphere of joy and amazement. Julie stood at the front, her face glowing with excitement.

“I want to share one story before we close,” she said. “I prayed for a woman tonight who had been in chronic pain for years. She didn’t believe in healing, but she let me pray anyway. And God healed her on the spot.”

The room erupted in applause. Julie smiled. “God is so good. And all we had to do was show up.”

Fred stepped forward and raised his hands. “Let’s pray for all of you now,” he said. “God wants to empower you to keep going. This isn’t just for one night.”

As Fred prayed, a quiet stillness fell over the room. People wept, lifted their hands, and felt the tangible presence of God.

When the prayer ended, Julie looked out at the group, knowing this was only the beginning. “God’s love is alive in this city,” she said. “And you’re part of it. Let’s keep going.”