It’s been a long time Sisters.
But I’ve missed you, and I couldn’t not share this with you all.
For the past number of months I have been censoring my prayers. Not all of them, only certain ones. Today God threw me face down in the ground and allowed me to experience more joy and more sadness than I ever have felt simultaneously.
Let’s start with a bit of a back story:
My oldest daughter was in a split grade 1/2 class last year. One of the grade 2 boys had spent a major part of the year prior in hospital receiving and recovering from treatment for his brain tumor. The whole school was overjoyed when he was able to start his grade two year alongside his classmates. My daughter would come home and tell me about how they had to be careful not to leave anything out that could be tripped over, or bumped into, and how if they even felt a little bit sick, they needed to stay home from school. I was simultaneously thrilled that she was getting this experience ( learning to love someone who stuck out from the crowd, and to be mindful of the needs of others) and terrified at the crisis that could possibly break open her little world.
In the spring of last year we got the sad news that he had to leave school and go back to the hospital as the cancer had returned. A lot of conversations were had that I did not plan on having with my 6 year old child. Things I couldn’t even wrap my own head around I now had to try to elegantly explain in the language of a child. Luckily, we have raised her to know God and to pray so those were things I relied on heavily in those conversations. She offered him up for prayer each day privately, and every Tuesday and Sunday at out Church family gatherings. This kid was so sure that God would take care of her friend. Faith like I’ve never seen.
The problem is that I was not sure of that at all. I consciously stopped asking for healing for this boy when I prayed with my daughter because I was afraid of what would happen if God didn’t deliver on it. I prayed for peace, and for relief, and for him to know that he was loved, and that his friends would get to see him again. I prayed for his mother, and that his doctors would make wise choices. But I could not bear to ask out loud for God to heal him. I asked for it in my own private prayers, but how authentic could that have sounded to God when he knew my heart was doubting him?
Our pastor is amazing, and every time my daughter brought the name forward for prayer he would pray for healing, pray for a miracle. And I would wince and squirm in my seat. The same mother who taught her daughter to trust in God for everything, and take her worries to him winced at the idea of God performing a miracle. I was too afraid of dealing with the faith crisis of a 6 year old to put it in God’s hands. Ugh. I am so embarrassed to be sharing this! But it’s important.
Near the end of the school year we got a letter home saying that the diagnosis was terminal and that the boy was resting at home. I waited all summer for notification that his battle had come to an end. I waited for the first few weeks of school for the same thing. And today we got a letter home. I read it and wept for joy and for sorrow at my belittling of this great God that I serve.
He is coming back to school. He is in remission.
God is an awesome God, and He knows what he is doing. He came through with the miracle that I was too afraid to pray for. He has come right out and said “I am here and I love you. Watch what I can do.”
My prayer today is that I continue to see God as I see him right now. That I continue to know in my soul that He CAN make miracles happen, and that He will if He wants to. And if he doesn’t want to, then he probably has a great reason.
I would love to hear your thoughts on this sisters – have you ever put God in a too-small box? Have you tried to make plans for “what if he doesn’t answer this they way I want him to?”