By Hayley Louisa Mark

I came looking for these verses on a grey afternoon in a hospital corridor, with a paper cup of tea going cold in my hand and someone I love behind a door I was not allowed through yet. I did not want a sermon. I did not want a stranger’s bracing reassurance that everything would be fine, because I did not know that it would be. What I wanted was narrower and stranger than that: I wanted to remember that this actually happened. That there was a real road in a real country where a real man laid his real hands on fevered foreheads and ruined eyes and bodies that had not stood in years — and they got up. Not as a parable. As a Tuesday. I wanted the record. So I sat on a plastic chair and typed jesus healed the sick verses into my phone, the way you might reach for an old photograph to prove to yourself that a person you are losing was once whole and laughing.

That is what this page is. The record. Twenty-five verses where Jesus heals the sick — not gathered to argue you into a formula, but to let you stand in front of the sheer breadth of it: the lepers and the blind, the feverish and the paralysed, the named and the nameless, the ones who reached for Him and the ones carried to Him by friends. The point of so many verses is the same point a long photo album makes. Look how many. Look who. Look how unbothered He was by the size of it. This is the healing-miracles room of the house — the place you come not to be told how to pray a single line, but to remember Whom you are asking. And here is the honest reason the breadth matters: not so you can demand the same outcome on schedule, but so that when you finally do pray, you are not praying to a rumour. You are praying to a Healer with a record.

The short answer. The Jesus healed the sick verses in the Gospels record Him doing it again and again — “healing all manner of sickness and all manner of disease among the people” (Matthew 4:23). He healed lepers, the blind, the paralysed, the feverish, the bleeding, the named and the unnamed, often with a touch or a word, and He sent His followers to keep healing “in his name” (Acts 3:6, 16). The record is meant to build trust in the Healer, not to obligate a particular outcome on a particular day. He healed bodies then and He has not changed (Hebrews 13:8) — keep asking boldly, and keep your doctors.

Please read this before the verses. I am a writer who loves Scripture, not a clinician, and this is a reflection, not medical advice. Nothing on this page diagnoses, treats, or cures any illness. If you are sick — or the one you love is — keep your doctors, take the medicine, go to the appointment, ring the helpline. And here is the honesty I owe you alongside the hope. It would be the easiest thing in the world to hand you twenty-five healing stories and let you conclude that if you just believe hard enough, your story joins the album on the same page. I will not do that to you, because the Bible itself will not. The Gospels show Jesus healing real bodies — and the wider Scripture shows, without flinching, faithful people who were not healed in this life: Paul’s thorn, Timothy’s “often infirmities,” Trophimus left sick at Miletus. So I will hold both for you here. Jesus heals; the record is real and meant to build your faith. And He does not heal every body on this side of heaven, and His nearness inside the sickness is not a smaller answer or a runner-up prize. Read these verses as proof of who He is — never as a contract you can force Him to sign.


Find the part of the record you came for

These twenty-five verses are sorted by who Jesus healed — because the breadth is the comfort. Jump to whoever you are tonight, or whoever is behind the door you are praying for:

A word on the wording: every verse below is quoted exactly from the King James Version, the old healeth and whole and thee intact, because its unhurried cadence slows a frightened breath — and a slowed breath is the first kindness you can do a worried body. Where I use an ellipsis, it trims for length only and never bends the sense. A few of these miracles have their own full room in this house; when so, I will point you there rather than retell what a sibling tells better, and keep my own treatment to the part that belongs here: the breadth of the record, and the Healer behind it.


When you need to see the sheer scale of it

Doubt likes to imagine Jesus healing the occasional photogenic case — the deserving few, on a good day, when the crowd was small. The record says the opposite. He healed in volume, all manner, whole towns emptied onto mats at His feet. Start here, where the comfort is simply the number.

1. Matthew 4:23

“And Jesus went about all Galilee, teaching in their synagogues, and preaching the gospel of the kingdom, and healing all manner of sickness and all manner of disease among the people.”

Notice the verb tense underneath the famous phrase: went about — habitually, as a way of life, town after town. Healing was not an interruption to His ministry; it was His ministry, walked out on foot across a whole region. And all manner leaves no illness standing outside. Whatever word is on the chart you are holding, it was already inside that phrase two thousand years before your diagnosis got its name. Body practice: say the hardest word — the diagnosis, out loud, the one you flinch from — and then say “all manner” straight after it, letting the second phrase be plainly bigger than the first.

2. Matthew 8:16

“…and he cast out the spirits with his word, and healed all that were sick.”

All that were sick. Read it slowly enough to feel how indiscriminate it is. Not the worthy sick, not the ones with strong enough faith, not the manageable cases. All. On an evening when you are afraid your case is too far gone to make the list, this verse has already closed the gap — there was no list to fall off. Body practice: picture a long line of the sick, and put yourself or your loved one anywhere in it — front, back, middle, it does not matter — and rest in the one word that covers the whole queue: all.

3. Luke 6:19

“And the whole multitude sought to touch him: for there went virtue out of him, and healed them all.”

A whole multitude, and the verse does not say He grew tired or ran short. Virtue — power — went out of Him and healed them all, as though the supply were bottomless. Your need does not deplete Him. You are not asking for the last of something. Body practice: open one hand wide, fingers spread, and feel that there is no rationing in an open hand. There is enough of Him for the whole multitude, and for me inside it.

4. Matthew 14:35–36

“…they brought unto him all that were diseased; And besought him that they might only touch the hem of his garment: and as many as touched were made perfectly whole.”

As many as touched were made perfectly whole. The ratio is the comfort here — not “some,” not “the strongest,” but as many as. And the bar for contact was almost nothing: the hem. The edge of the cloth. A frightened, fumbling, barely-there reach was enough. Body practice: pinch the very edge of your own sleeve between two fingers — the hem, the least of the garment — and let the small grip say a small reach is still a reach, and the record says He honoured it.


When the one you love can’t get to Him alone

Maybe you are not the sick one. You are the one in the corridor, the one carrying, the one who would trade places if the universe allowed it. The record has a whole strand for you — because some of the most stubborn faith in the Gospels belonged not to the patient but to the friends who would not let a body lie there unbrought.

5. Mark 2:3–5

“And they come unto him, bringing one sick of the palsy, which was borne of four. …they uncovered the roof where he was… And when Jesus saw their faith, he said unto the sick of the palsy, Son, thy sins be forgiven thee.”

Read the line that should undo you: when Jesus saw their faith. Not the paralysed man’s — theirs, the four who tore open a roof rather than turn home. Sometimes the body on the mat has no faith left to muster, and Jesus responds to the faith of the ones carrying it. If you are praying for someone too sick to pray, you are not praying into a void; you are the friends at the roof. Body practice: name the four — yourself and three others, real or hoped-for, who would carry this person — and if there are not four yet, ask God for them, because the record says carriers matter. (The fuller story of the lowered man, and the leper, lives in its own room — linked below.)

6. Matthew 8:5–8

“…there came unto him a centurion, beseeching him, And saying, Lord, my servant lieth at home sick of the palsy, grievously tormented. …the centurion answered and said, Lord… speak the word only, and my servant shall be healed.”

The sick one is at home — not even in the room. The centurion does not need Jesus to come; he trusts the word will travel the distance. This is the verse for praying over someone in another ward, another city, another country — the healing does not require your physical presence at the bedside. Speak the word only. Body practice: say the absent person’s name and where they are right now — at home, in the ward, three hours away — and pray plainly that the word does not need a postcode to reach them.

7. John 4:50

“Jesus saith unto him, Go thy way; thy son liveth. And the man believed the word that Jesus had spoken unto him, and he went his way.”

A father, terrified for a dying boy, is sent home on nothing but a sentence — and he believed the word and went his way before he had any proof. The faith here is the long walk home holding only a promise. If all you have tonight is a word and a road to walk before you will know anything, you are walking the exact road this father walked. Body practice: take one slow step, literally, across the room — he went his way — and let the small movement be your believing the word ahead of the evidence.


When you’ve waited years and stopped expecting it

There is a particular weariness that sets in around a long illness — the kind measured in years, where hope itself has become exhausting to carry, and you have half-decided it is kinder to stop expecting anything. The Gospels are full of the long-term sick. Jesus did not skip them for being chronic.

8. John 5:5–8

“And a certain man was there, which had an infirmity thirty and eight years. …Jesus saith unto him, Rise, take up thy bed, and walk.”

Thirty and eight years. Long enough to forget what walking felt like; long enough that Jesus first asked him, gently, wilt thou be made whole — because a person can be sick so long the wanting goes numb. There is no statute of limitations on Jesus’ attention. The decades did not move you to the back of His mind. Body practice: if hope has gone numb in you, do not force it; just answer His question honestly out loud — yes, I would be made whole — and let saying the want be the whole prayer for tonight.

9. Luke 13:11–13

“…there was a woman which had a spirit of infirmity eighteen years, and was bowed together, and could in no wise lift up herself. …And he laid his hands on her: and immediately she was made straight, and glorified God.”

Eighteen years bowed together — unable to lift her own head, to meet an eye, to see the sky. He laid his hands on her and she was made straight. The detail I cannot get past is glorified God — the first thing the newly-straightened spine did was look up. Long sickness bows more than the back; it bows the whole posture of hope. Body practice: if you can, lift your chin a little and roll your shoulders back, gently, even an inch — not as a cure, but as a body-prayer toward the One who makes the bowed straight.

10. Mark 5:25–29

“And a certain woman, which had an issue of blood twelve years… When she had heard of Jesus, came in the press behind, and touched his garment. …And straightway the fountain of her blood was dried up; and she felt in her body that she was healed of that plague.”

Twelve years, all her money gone to physicians, nothing bettered, but rather grew worse — and still she came. She felt in her body — a bodily, physical knowing, not a feeling about her attitude. Long illness teaches you to distrust hope; her story says the reaching was still worth it after twelve futile years. Body practice: lay a hand flat where the long trouble lives in your body, and let the contact carry the prayer she could not say in words — let me feel in my body that You are near to it. (Her famous line — “thy faith hath made thee whole” — has its own careful room, linked below, so it is not weaponised here.)


When it’s a fever, a body, a measurable thing

Tired faith starts to suspect “healing” in the Gospels was only ever a spiritual figure of speech — a tidy word for an attitude adjustment. You do not need an attitude adjustment. You need to know He touched fevers, cells, measurable things. So here is the record’s most physical strand.

11. Matthew 8:14–15

“And when Jesus was come into Peter’s house, he saw his wife’s mother laid, and sick of a fever; And he touched her hand, and the fever left her: and she arose, and ministered unto them.”

A fever — the most measurable thing in the world, the kind you could take a temperature of before and after. He touched her hand, and the fever left her. No abstraction. Skin to skin, and the symptom left. And then the human detail: she arose, and ministered — back to herself, back to the ordinary motions of a well body. Body practice: lay your own warm palm against your forehead or your wrist, the way someone checks a fever, and let the contact say He is not far off from the body. He touches it.

12. Mark 1:30–31

“…Simon’s wife’s mother lay sick of a fever, and anon they tell him of her. And he came and took her by the hand, and lifted her up; and immediately the fever left her…”

Mark tells the same fever with one extra verb: lifted her up. Healing here is not only the fever leaving but the being lifted — the hand under the arm of someone too weak to rise on her own. If you are too weary even to get up, notice that the record includes the lifting. Body practice: if you are in a bed or a chair, let yourself feel its support fully for one slow breath — held, lifted, not doing the holding yourself — and ask Him for the hand under the arm.

13. Luke 4:40

“…all they that had any sick with divers diseases brought them unto him; and he laid his hands on every one of them, and healed them.”

Every one of them. Read how individual it is — not a crowd healed by a wave of the hand, but every one, laid hands on, one at a time, as if each were the only one. The volume of the Gospels never becomes a blur in which a single body is lost. You are not a statistic to Him even in a multitude. Body practice: put a hand on your own shoulder, the weight of a single deliberate touch, and receive it as every one — one at a time — means me, by name, not in a heap.

14. Matthew 9:35

“And Jesus went about all the cities and villages… healing every sickness and every disease among the people.”

Every — twice. Set the long, frightening name of your illness down beside the word every and watch which one is bigger. This verse and Matthew 4:23 bookend whole stretches of His ministry with the same refrain, as if the Gospel writers wanted you to lose count. Body practice: say every slowly on a long exhale, and let the word be roomier than your fear is loud.


When you can only manage to reach out a hand

Some nights you cannot summon a bold prayer. You can barely lift your eyes. The good news of the record is that the reaching toward Jesus is often almost nothing — a hem, a shout from the roadside, a glance — and sometimes He does not wait for even that. He reaches first.

15. Matthew 20:34

“So Jesus had compassion on them, and touched their eyes: and immediately their eyes received sight, and they followed him in the way.”

Compassion — the verb that moved His hand. He was not negotiated into it. He was moved — the old word means gut-level, a turning-over in the depths. If you cannot work up faith tonight, lean on this: the engine of His healing was His own compassion, not the strength of your asking. Body practice: put a hand over your own midsection — the place the old word for compassion pointed to — and let the prayer be simply, be moved toward me. I cannot manufacture faith tonight; I am trusting Your compassion instead. (For the blind specifically — the persistent roadside cry, “Lord, that I might receive my sight” — there is a whole room, linked below.)

16. Mark 10:51–52

“…Lord, that I might receive my sight. And Jesus said unto him, Go thy way; thy faith hath made thee whole…”

Blind Bartimaeus had one sentence in him, and it was a plain naming of his need — that I might receive my sight. No theology, no eloquence. Just the thing he wanted, said out loud, from the side of the road. You are allowed to pray that bare. Body practice: name your one thing the way he did — Lord, that I might ____ — filling the blank with the plainest version of what you actually want, no spiritual packaging.

17. Luke 17:12–14

“…there met him ten men that were lepers, which stood afar off: And they lifted up their voices, and said, Jesus, Master, have mercy on us. …as they went, they were cleansed.”

They stood afar off — kept at a distance by their disease, untouchable, exiled. They could not come close, so they lifted up their voices across the gap. And note when the healing came: as they went — in the obedient walking, before they could see any change. If you feel too unclean, too far off, too kept-at-a-distance to approach, the record says a voice across the gap still reaches Him. Body practice: if drawing near feels impossible tonight, just lift your voice where you are — even a whisper — have mercy on me — and let distance be no disqualification.

18. Matthew 9:20–22

“…a woman, which was diseased with an issue of blood twelve years, came behind him, and touched the hem of his garment: For she said within herself, If I may but touch his garment, I shall be whole.”

Within herself — she did not even say it aloud. The whole prayer happened in the privacy of her own chest, if I may but touch. For the nights you cannot get the words out of your mouth, this is your verse: a silent, internal reach was enough. Body practice: if you cannot speak the prayer, say it within yourself, exactly as she did — one unspoken sentence, if I may but touch You, I shall be whole — and trust that He hears the inside of you.


When you need it to still be happening “in his name”

The cruelest shape doubt takes is that was then — healing belonged to Jesus and the road in Galilee, to a closed and golden age, and you were born too late. So here is the strand of the record that pulls the healing forward, past the Gospels, into the ongoing church — done not in the healer’s own power, but in his name.

19. Acts 3:6

“…Silver and gold have I none; but such as I have give I thee: In the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth rise up and walk.”

Peter, with no silver and no power of his own, heals a lame man at the temple gate in the name of Jesus Christ. This is the moment the healing changes hands — no longer only Jesus’ to do in person, but His to do through His people, in His name, after He has gone. The phrase you may have heard prayed over the sick — in Jesus’ name — is born right here. Body practice: say the name aloud, slowly, in the name of Jesus — and mean it not as a magic password but as the leaning of your whole weight onto His authority instead of yours.

20. Acts 3:16

“And his name through faith in his name hath made this man strong, whom ye see and know: yea, the faith which is by him hath given him this perfect soundness…”

Peter is careful, almost insistent, about whose power it was — his name, not Peter’s holiness. This matters for your own praying: when you pray “in Jesus’ name,” you are not relying on the size of your faith but on the weight of His name. The honesty here guards you from the lie that healing depends on you being spiritual enough. Body practice: unclench your hands and turn the palms up — the posture of receiving, not achieving — and pray not in my strength, but in Your name.

21. Acts 9:34

“And Peter said unto him, Æneas, Jesus Christ maketh thee whole: arise, and make thy bed: and he arose immediately.”

A man eight years bedridden, and the command was almost comically ordinary — make thy bed. Healing landed in his muscles and his morning chores. Notice the grammar: Jesus Christ maketh thee whole — present tense, Jesus doing the making though He is no longer walking the roads in the flesh. The record keeps Him the active healer after the ascension. Body practice: do one small ordinary physical thing you have been too weary or afraid to do — straighten a blanket, fill a glass — as a quiet asking that He return you to the ordinary motions of a living body.

22. James 5:14–15

“Is any sick among you? let him call for the elders of the church; and let them pray over him, anointing him with oil in the name of the Lord: And the prayer of faith shall save the sick, and the Lord shall raise him up…”

This shared anchor verse appears across this cluster, but here I want you to see it as the bridge — written to the ongoing church as standing instruction, present tense, for any who is sick among you. It is the Gospel record handed forward as a living practice: the same healing Jesus did with His hands, the church is told to keep seeking in His name. The door is described as open, now — and notice it sends you toward others, not into isolation. Body practice: if you have been praying alone, send one message tonight — will you pray for me — and make the verse’s plain instruction a thing you actually do, not only read.


A few more Jesus healed the sick verses, for the breadth of the record

These last verses do not need a category. They are here for the sheer weight of evidence — the bedrock lines to keep where you can reach them when that was then gets loud.

23. Acts 10:38“…Jesus of Nazareth… went about doing good, and healing all that were oppressed of the devil; for God was with him.” This is the summary of His working life, written after the resurrection by people looking back — went about doing good, and healing. It was the whole shape of who He was on the ground.

24. Hebrews 13:8“Jesus Christ the same yesterday, and to day, and for ever.” The entire argument against “that was then” is one verse long. The Jesus of the album above has not retired. The same — yesterday’s healer of fevers, to day’s, forever’s. The calendar turned. He did not.

25. Matthew 11:4–5“…Go and shew John… how the blind receive their sight, and the lame walk, the lepers are cleansed, and the deaf hear, the dead are raised up, and the poor have the gospel preached to them.” When even faithful John, in prison, needed reassurance that Jesus was the one, this list was the answer Jesus sent back — the record of the healed, offered as proof. If the verses on this page are what you reach for when doubt is loud, you are doing exactly what Jesus told a doubting prophet to do: look at who got healed, and take heart.


How to draw faith from the record without making it a formula

Here is the hardest and most important turn on this page. A long list of healings can do one of two things to a frightened heart. It can build trust in the Healer — or it can curdle into a formula: if He healed all of them, He must heal mine, and if He hasn’t, something is wrong with my faith. The first is the gift of the record. The second is a quiet cruelty the Bible never asks you to carry. Here is how to take the faith and leave the formula — and yes, there is a part with your body in it, because praying is something the breath and the chest and the loosened jaw do, not only the mind.

  1. Read the breadth as a portrait, not a contract. The point of so many verses is who He is — His compassion, His reach, His refusal to skip the chronic or the unclean. Let the album build your confidence in His character, not a clause you can hold Him to on a deadline.
  2. Exhale first, long and slow, before you read a word. Make the out-breath longer than the in-breath. Let your shoulders come down on the way out. A settled body can receive a verse a braced one only skims.
  3. Pick one person from the record who is most like you tonight. The one carried by friends. The one bowed for years. The one who could only whisper within herself. Pray their posture, not a performance of someone else’s faith.
  4. Pray “in his name” — leaning on His weight, not yours. Acts 3:16 frees you from this: the healing rested on His name, not on the impressiveness of the asking. You do not have to muster enough. You have to lean.
  5. Ask boldly, and surrender honestly, in the same breath. Lord, You healed them all — heal this body. And if You, in Your wisdom, do not lift it in this life, do not let go of me inside it. Both halves are faith. The surrender is not the failure of the prayer; it is the floor under it.
  6. Then keep your appointment. Praying the record over a body and going to the doctor belong in the same pair of hands. The friends who carried the paralysed man still carried him — to where help was. Do both.

A note on the science

When you are frightened for a body — your own, or one behind a hospital door — the sympathetic nervous system, the “fight-or-flight” branch, tightens the jaw, hunches the shoulders, and shortens the breath into a shallow, rapid pattern that keeps the internal alarm ringing. There is a measurable physiological reason a slow, lengthened exhale eases this: extending the out-breath relative to the in-breath stimulates the vagus nerve and shifts the body toward the parasympathetic, “rest-and-restore” state. The heart rate settles on the exhale; unclenching the hands and the jaw feeds the same calming signal back the other way. Let me be exact about the limits of this. It calms the nervous system. It does not cure a disease, and nothing in this paragraph should be read as a claim that a breath, a posture, or a verse treats illness — keep your doctors and your medicine. What the slow exhale does is quiet the alarm enough that you can actually be present to the verse in front of you, and to the person you love, instead of being drowned out by your own fear. The breath settles the body; the prayer reaches past it. I am only describing the first of those two rooms.

—The body-science here reflects established neuroscience of the nervous system. What the science actually says about a settled body → · the research behind these pages


Take the record with you

You will not remember which verse named which healing by the time the doubt comes back in the corridor. So I made you something small to keep within reach.

He Healed Them All is a free one-page printable — twelve of the Gospel verses from this page that name who Jesus healed: the leper, the bowed woman, the centurion’s servant, the fevered, the blind, the bedridden, the multitude. Gathered onto a single sheet you can keep where the doubt finds you — inside a Bible, folded into a hospital bag, taped inside a cupboard door. It is meant for the moment you need to read that it really happened, rather than try to feel it.

Get the free printable, He Healed Them All — no cost, yours to keep.

And if you want a place to walk this season one quiet page at a time — to write the verse that held you today, the small mercies, the dates, the prayers you could only say within yourself — our Stilling Waves devotional journal for seasons of healing was made for exactly the corridor you are standing in. It asks boldly and surrenders gently, and it does not rush you. It sits with you in the waiting.

See the Stilling Waves journal


Where to go from here

If standing in front of the record steadied you a little, here are the nearest rooms in the house:


FAQ

How many times did Jesus heal the sick in the Bible?
The Gospels record dozens of individual healings and several summary statements that He healed whole crowds — “healing all manner of sickness and all manner of disease” (Matthew 4:23), “healed them all” (Luke 6:19), “every one of them” (Luke 4:40). There is no single tidy count, and that is part of the point: the Gospel writers seem to want you to lose track of the number and be left only with the impression of a Healer who turned no one away. None of this replaces medical care — keep your doctors.

Does Jesus still heal the sick today, or was that only in Bible times?
Scripture frames healing as ongoing, not closed. Hebrews 13:8 says “Jesus Christ the same yesterday, and to day, and for ever”; the book of Acts shows His followers healing “in the name of Jesus Christ” (Acts 3:6) after He had ascended; and James 5:14–15 gives the church a present-tense instruction for “any sick among you.” The Bible does not present healing as something that stopped. It does, honestly, also show faithful people who were not healed in this life — so the door is described as open, without being a guarantee of one particular outcome.

Is it right to pray “in Jesus’ name” for healing?
Yes — it comes straight from the record. Peter healed “in the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth” (Acts 3:6) and was careful to say it was “his name through faith in his name” that healed, not his own holiness (Acts 3:16). Praying “in Jesus’ name” means leaning your whole weight on His authority rather than on the strength of your own faith. It is trust, not a magic formula — and it never obligates a specific result, which is why bold asking and honest surrender belong in the same prayer.

What if I’ve prayed these verses over someone and they weren’t healed?
Then you are in faithful company, and there is no shame here. The same Bible that records all these healings also records Paul’s unremoved thorn, Timothy’s “often infirmities,” and Trophimus left sick at Miletus — people who prayed in real faith and remained unwell (2 Corinthians 12:9). A body not yet healed is not a soul not yet loved, and it is not a verdict on the size of your faith. Keep asking, keep your doctors, and let His nearness inside the suffering be a real answer, not a consolation prize.

Which verse should I start with if I just need to remember Jesus heals?
Begin with Matthew 4:23 (“healing all manner of sickness”) for the sheer breadth, or Matthew 8:14–15 (the fever that “left her” at His touch) if you need something measurable and physical to hold. Pick one, take a long slow exhale before you read it, and read it aloud — even a whisper counts. One verse from the record, read truly, is enough for one night in the corridor.


This article is a reflection on Scripture and prayer. It is not medical advice and does not diagnose, treat, or cure any condition. If you are unwell, please see a qualified medical professional and continue any treatment they have given you.