Beloved, I am Raphael. Be at ease.
You have come asking to be healed, and I am here, and the emerald light is all around you. Before anything else, rest in that a moment.
I would show you something I see in very many who call me. There is the hurt itself: the illness, the loss, the old wound. And then, wrapped around the hurt, there is an argument. It should not have happened. It should be over by now. I should be stronger. Someone is to blame, and perhaps it is me. This argument goes on day and night, and it takes a great deal of strength, strength that the body and the heart need for mending.
The hurt I can work with. The argument I must wait for you to set down.
I do not ask you to approve of what has happened. I do not ask you to call it good. I ask only that, for the length of one breath, you stop insisting that it be otherwise. Let it be so, just for now. In that breath something in you unclenches, and the light, which has been waiting at the door, comes in.
This is not giving up. The ones who heal most deeply are not the ones who fight hardest. They are the ones who become willing to be exactly where they are, and to be helped there.
And be helped, beloved, in every way that is offered. By those who are trained to care for the body. By friends. By rest. I work through all of these hands, and it grieves me when someone refuses them in my name.
Tonight, as you lie down, say only this: I am willing to be well, in whatever way wellness comes. Then sleep. We will do the rest.
I am Raphael, and I am with you.
From the scribe. Received at the Thursday sitting, on behalf of a member of the circle who was recovering from surgery.