Today’s message reminded us that biblical healing is often misunderstood and misrepresented. Some treat it as a theological battleground—arguing over whether it still happens, dismissing it as belonging only to the apostolic era, or twisting it into a performance that shames those not instantly healed. Others mischaracterize it as a “vending machine” where, if you put in enough faith, you are guaranteed to get whatever healing you want. But biblical healing is none of these things. True healing is the work of Jesus Christ, who is the same yesterday, today, and forever, and it flows from His presence into every area of life—body, mind, and spirit. Healing in Scripture is never just about the removal of symptoms; it is about restoration to wholeness—repairing the brokenness in our hearts, minds, relationships, and souls so we can walk in the fullness of life God intends. Sometimes that restoration is instant, as when Jesus healed the blind, the lame, and the lepers with a word or a touch. Other times, it comes gradually, layer by layer, through surrender, stillness, trust, and walking closely with Him. It is not something we earn or manipulate—it is received by faith as God works according to His perfect will.

I shared my own testimony of battling COVID in 2021, when symptoms became a fight for life and breath. In that season, God’s presence became my oxygen and His promises the foundation that held me. Though the physical healing did not come instantly, God began healing my spirit, faith, and identity—restoring from the inside out. Biblical healing is like that—it doesn’t just touch the surface, it reaches the root, addressing the emotional wounds, the spiritual burdens, and the broken thinking that often accompany physical struggles. Scripture shows us this pattern repeatedly: Jesus forgave sins before healing bodies, bound up broken hearts before restoring strength, and often called people to relationship before releasing a miracle. That’s why our part is not to chase the healing but to pursue the Healer. We must release bitterness, receive His forgiveness, and trust His process—whether instant or over time—knowing that every step is moving us toward wholeness. And while we rejoice when God heals here, we also hold to the promise of ultimate healing in eternity, where there will be no more pain, sickness, or sorrow. Today, the invitation is clear—whatever your need, whether physical, emotional, relational, or spiritual, come to the altar. Don’t leave carrying what Jesus has already paid to heal. The Healer is here, and His name is Jesus.

GO TO www.belmontbaptistchurch.com/sermons and listen to Sunday’s message.

HE IS PRESENT IN THE MIDDLE OF THE PAIN

God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble.” —Psa 46:1  

Pain is not always loud. Sometimes it’s a silent ache that settles in and refuses to leave. It can be heavy and slow, like a shadow that follows you no matter how much light you stand in. Pain often hides in plain sight—behind polite smiles, casual “I’m fine” responses, or the busyness we use to distract ourselves. It can be an invisible weight pressing on your chest, a smile that hides the tears, or an ache in your heart you can’t put into words. It shows up in strained marriages where conversations have grown short, in the moments when laughter feels forced, and in the awkward silences that were once filled with warmth. It lingers in the kind of loneliness that can follow you into a room full of people.

But here’s what we were reminded of this past Sunday: God doesn’t wait on the sidelines for the pain to pass. He doesn’t stand back until the storm is over. He steps right into the middle of it. He doesn’t avoid the sorrow—He chooses to dwell there with you. His presence doesn’t always erase the struggle, but it changes how you walk through it. You may not feel strong right now, but you are never abandoned. You may not see the way forward, but the One who is your Shepherd is walking with you every step of the way.

The beauty of God’s presence is that it is enough. Not “enough” in the bare-minimum sense, but enough in the overflowing, sustaining, life-giving sense. His presence is the lifeline that keeps you from drowning under the weight of it all. It’s not always the dramatic rescue we think we need—sometimes it’s the steady, unshakable whisper that says, “I’m here, and I’m not leaving.” His presence might not take away every question, but it anchors you when the questions refuse to stop.

Your emotions may shout uncertainty, fear, or despair, but His Word stands firm as the unmovable truth. He doesn’t wait for you to have all the answers or to pull yourself together. He walks with you while you fall apart. He doesn’t recoil from the mess—He sits with you in it, unshaken by the chaos around you or the confusion within you. Sometimes God’s greatest miracle is not removing the fire but joining you in the flames. His presence is not a promise of painless days, but of purposeful ones. The valley you dread today may one day become the very place where you see Him most clearly.

When you call Him your refuge, you’re not escaping reality—you’re stepping into a deeper, truer one. The reality that He is your hiding place, your strength, your shield, your peace. The world says you’re strong when you stand on your own, but God says your strength is found in leaning fully on Him. The world says you’re safe when trouble disappears, but God says you’re safe because He is here—even when trouble still surrounds you.

So if your heart is tired today… if the pain feels unrelenting… if the tears are falling when no one else can see—take comfort in this: His presence in the middle of your pain is not temporary. It is constant. And it will hold you until the day you see that the valley had a purpose, and that the One who walked with you never let go.

Prayer:  Lord, thank You for being present in my pain. I don’t have all the answers, but I have You—and that is enough. Help me to rest in Your presence even when the pain doesn’t make sense. Wrap me in Your strength today. Remind me that my weakness is the very place where Your power can be seen. Be my refuge, my peace, my safe place.

Challenge:  Set a timer for five minutes today to sit in silence before the Lord. No music, no words—just awareness of His presence with you in the middle of what hurts. As you breathe in, remember He is your refuge; as you breathe out, release the weight you’ve been carrying into His hands.

Jessica Headrick – Surgery went well

Sheila Simmons

Kim’s Sisters – Ann & Brenda – Good News

Linda Mays – Rehab    

Debbie Foskey – Home

Andrea Nix– Friend of the Shellnutts

Angela Bryan’s Sister

Ann Stanley – Home

Danny Jarrard 

Darlene Wiggins

Doris Loyd

Dr. and Mrs. Davis

Eric Magnusson’s Mother

Eric Ward

Friend of Linda Hodge

Gayle Sparks

George & Linda Alexander 

James Burnette

James Garner

Jason Parker  

John McClain’s Mother

John Parillo

June Cronan’s Sister

June Davis

Kailey Bateman

Kathryn Raines

Kim McClain’s Mother 

Lee Cronan

Lillianna Magnusson’s Mom

Linda Breedlove’s Sister – Sarah 

Lonzo Christian 

Lori Blount’s Mother

Mary Williams

Mary Williamson – Dana Jackson’s Mom

Mrs. Franklin 

Nora Allison

Rose Fuller – Pruitt-Monroe Nursing Home, Forsyth GA

Sadie Almand 

Scott Lanier 

Scotty Nix

Stephanie Seivers – Friend of the Shellnutts

Steve Michaels

Tom Witcher