Sometimes God moves not through big stages or loud miracles, but in the quiet moments — when we simply stop and sit with someone in their pain. That’s what happened recently during one of our weekly meetings in Jerusalem, when Haim, one of our evangelists and congregation leaders, noticed a man standing alone during fellowship.
The man’s name was Alexei. When Haim invited him to join the table, he shook his head. “I can’t,” he said quietly. “I’m in pain. I was injured at work — I think I may have broken my ribs.”
Instead of insisting, Haim met him where he was. He gently asked, “Can I pray for you?” and Alexei agreed. Haim prayed — first for healing in his body, then for peace that would reach deeper than the pain in his ribs.
As they spoke, Haim sensed that God wanted to touch something even deeper — the pain in Alexei’s heart. So he began to share a story from his ministry in Ashdod. He told Alexei about a woman named Irina, whom he had once met there. Irina believed she had no sin, that she was a good person, and didn’t need forgiveness.
Haim opened the Scriptures with her to Isaiah 53, and as she read the words, something broke open inside her:
“He was pierced for our transgressions,
crushed for our iniquities;
the punishment that brought us peace was on Him,
and by His wounds we are healed.”
Isaiah 53:5
As Irina read, she suddenly realized that Yeshua had taken her sin, her pain, her shame — and died in her place. Tears filled her eyes, and she surrendered her life to Him.
As Alexei listened, he was visibly moved. Tears welled up in his eyes. “I want that,” he whispered. “I want to invite Jesus into my life.”
Alexei prayed — sincerely and deeply — and with every word, it seemed that years of heaviness lifted from him. The presence of God filled the room. Haim opened the Bible again, and they read Isaiah 53 together — this time as a living promise.
Others nearby could sense it too.
One woman named Mira, who had been speaking with Lena earlier, paused, tears streaming down her face. “I want this peace,” she said softly. “I’ve been living in so much noise… but I want this.” Even as she stepped away, her heart had clearly been touched by what she’d seen.
And Alexei, the man who hadn’t wanted to sit, stayed. Peace filled his face. One by one, people came to embrace him, rejoice with him, and welcome him into fellowship. He wasn’t just healed — he was home.
This moment reminds us of what real ministry looks like. We’re not called to fix people, only to meet them where they are. Healing begins when someone feels seen, loved, and gently led to Jesus. When we make space for the Holy Spirit, He does what only He can do.
“A bruised reed He will not break, and a smoldering wick He will not snuff out.”
Isaiah 42:3
That’s the heart of the Gospel — to meet people in their brokenness, to love without agenda, and to let God do the rest.
