Be Gracious To Me
There’s a line somewhere between macabre and pragmatic and it varies for each person. We often don’t even realize we have that line until someone else crosses it for us. Today I’m tip toeing right around that line, not because I want to upset anyone, but because death is an inevitable part of life.
First of all, I want to extend my sincere appreciation for everyone who has been praying for Hannah and her mother Sue. Last year Sue wasn’t feeling well and went to the doctor. After a few different visits they finally did a scan and she “lit up like a Christmas tree”. It was a widespread lymphoma. However, after chemo her body responded wonderfully and she went into remission in January. About a month later, she went back to the doctor for some stomach pain and they did a scan just to be on the safe side. This time, they found a mass on her pancreas. Treatments have not worked and they have caused havoc on her body as the cancer has continued to spread.
Somewhere along the line the focus of my prayers went from asking for healing to asking for comfort. Even just typing that out feels like betrayal or that I’m not praying for a big enough miracle. Is this one of those moments where Jesus would say “Oh you of little faith”?
I’m reminded of when King David he lost his son.
The Lord struck the child that Uriah’s wife bore to David, and it became very ill. 16 David therefore pleaded with God for the child; David fasted, and went in and lay all night on the ground. 17 The elders of his house stood beside him, urging him to rise from the ground; but he would not, nor did he eat food with them. 18 On the seventh day the child died. And the servants of David were afraid to tell him that the child was dead; for they said, ‘While the child was still alive, we spoke to him, and he did not listen to us; how then can we tell him the child is dead? He may do himself some harm.’ 19 But when David saw that his servants were whispering together, he perceived that the child was dead; and David said to his servants, ‘Is the child dead?’ They said, ‘He is dead.’
20 Then David rose from the ground, washed, anointed himself, and changed his clothes. He went into the house of the Lord, and worshipped; he then went to his own house; and when he asked, they set food before him and he ate. 21 Then his servants said to him, ‘What is this thing that you have done? You fasted and wept for the child while it was alive; but when the child died, you rose and ate food.’ 22 He said, ‘While the child was still alive, I fasted and wept; for I said, “Who knows? The Lord may be gracious to me, and the child may live.” 23 But now he is dead; why should I fast? Can I bring him back again? I shall go to him, but he will not return to me.’
David was known as a man after God’s own heart. He fasted and prayed so much that his own servants were afraid to tell him what had happened. And yet the child still died. I don’t think that if I would just pray a little more things would change. Not only does that place too much importance on my ability to pray but it at the same time implies that anyone who lost a loved one just didn’t pray enough. This leaves us in an awkward spot though. We believe in prayer, but often we don’t get the results we want. We believe God can heal, but we also go to doctors. I won’t pretend to understand how or why it all works this way. All I know is that essentially when we pray “[God’s] will be done on earth” we are admitting that it’s out of our control. We pray anyway, and like David we do it because “Who knows? The Lord may be gracious to me and [they] may live.”