Do you believe John 3:16? Then why isn’t Mark 16:17–18 your daily life?
Hi, I’m Addison. You’re reading (or listening to) Bigger Than Me—a weekly guide devoted to removing the fears, doubts, and misconceptions that keep believers from healing the sick in everyday life.
Did someone forward this to you? Sign up here or keep scrolling to jump in.
(Unsure if modern healing is something the Bible actually teaches? Start here.)
My wife was standing in the kitchen.
I was sitting at our dining table.
She mentioned her wrist again.
Said it still hurt
and it was hard to turn.
That caught my attention.
She’d said something about her wrist a couple days before,
but I brushed it off as a small bump or bruise.
This sounded different.
“C’mere for a sec,” I motioned to her.
She stepped over and held her wrist out.
No need to explain what I was going to do—
she’d seen it enough times.
I prayed for her.
Commanded the pain out,
and commanded her wrist to heal.
Then I stopped.
As she withdrew her hand,
I almost turned back to my dinner—
but then I heard it:
“Have her test it.”
“How does it feel?” I asked.
“…it's better, but still hurts a bit.”
She turned it slightly.
A little improvement.
“Let’s pray again.”
She handed her wrist back and I prayed once more.
“Now try it”
More movement.
Less pain.
We kept going.
Pray.
Test.
Repeat.
Each time, more range and less pain.
After a few more rounds, the pain was gone
and she nearly had full range of motion again.
I paused for a second.
“One more time”
“Okay, one more…how about now?”
She rotated her wrist in a full circle.
No resistance.
No pain.
She smiled.
“Okay!”
We left it there
and went back to eating.
“This is probably enough.”
You pray.
Something shifts.
Enough to notice—
not enough to make a real difference.
And now you have to decide what that means.
Is that it?
Is that all that’s going to happen?
Do I keep going?
Or settle?
So you stop.
You assume it’ll work itself out.
You did your part.
“Better” becomes “enough.”
And you move on.
Don’t Stop at Better
Better isn’t done.
That’s where most people leave it.
The pain drops.
Movement comes back.
It looks close.
They assume it’s enough and step away.
We didn’t do that.
We stayed.
Pray.
Check.
Respond.
Again.
Until we knew it was done.
A Prayer for Knowing When It’s Done
Original graphic by Bryan Arcebal
Dear Father,
Thank You that You speak directly.
Thank You that when You move,
I can recognize it.
Jesus, thank You for the authority You’ve given me—
that when I speak,
things change.
Holy Spirit, thank You that You guide me in all things.
I won’t second-guess what You’ve done.
I won’t keep reaching
for something You’ve already finished.
And I won’t walk away
when You’re still working.
I’ll respond to You—
clearly,
simply,
as it happens.
When it’s done,
I’ll recognize it.
And I’ll move forward.
In Jesus’ name,
Amen.
Until next time,
Addison
