Heal me with your Loving arm.

 Heal Me with Your Loving Arm

A Reflection on Psalm 103:3, Isaiah 53:5, and Psalm 17:8

Heal me with Your loving arm—not with a cold and distant hand,

But with the tender, gentle touch that only You understand.

You are the Great Physician, the Mender of the crushed,

The One who hears my silent cry and turns my pain to trust.

Praise the Lord, my soul, and forget not all His benefits—who forgives all your sins and heals all your diseases. (Psalm 103:2-3)

Your loving arm—the same arm that stretched the heavens wide,

The same arm that calmed the raging sea, the same arm that stands beside

The broken and the weary, the wounded and the weak,

The same arm that reaches out to heal, the same arm that I seek.

Heal my body—every cell, every bone.

Let the healing power of the risen Lord be known.

Heal my mind—the anxious thoughts, the fear.

Let Your peace, which transcends understanding, draw near.

Heal my spirit—the weariness, the shame.

Let the river of Your Spirit flow and restore my frame.

But He was pierced for our transgressions, He was crushed for our iniquities; the punishment that brought us peace was on Him, and by His wounds we are healed. (Isaiah 53:5)

Your loving arm—not a scepter of judgment, but a staff of grace,

A comfort in the wilderness, a shelter in every place.

You do not break the bruised reed, You do not snuff the smoldering wick.

You lift, You hold, You heal, You make the broken spirit quick.

So I rest in Your loving arm—the arm that holds the universe,

Yet bends to lift the fallen, to heal the deepest curse.

I trust Your touch, I trust Your time, I trust Your perfect will.

Heal me with Your loving arm—and let my heart be still.

Keep me as the apple of Your eye; hide me in the shadow of Your wings. (Psalm 17:8)

Heal me, Lord. I receive Your healing grace.

Let me find my wholeness in Your warm embrace.

Amen.