We don’t know what to do with prayer sometimes. We’ve heard so many different perspectives from fatalistic ones that claim prayer is only an act of obedience that doesn’t change anything to entitled views that we can demand what we want and it will happen. I’m not that old, but I’m old enough to have experienced both unexpected abundant blessings as well as heartbreak following prayer that exhausted every cell in my body.
Right now this topic of prayer is so relevant to my life and the lives of people I love dearly. What do you say to the mother who has lost a child in a tragic accident? What do you say to the family in an ongoing battle with cancer? Or the friend who is staring death in the face? And how do you pray when you know that God heals, but not always.
Recently, I spoke with a friend with her own concerns who gave me her take on prayer. She said she prays to the God of miracles, recognizing that God is at work in the details, asking for faith both to trust and to act. I needed that reminder, and the conversation that allowed me to clarify my own thoughts on how to pray in the face of the impossible.
When Jesus prayed facing the impossible–a tortuous death, even with the promise of resurrection is incomprehensible–he first poured out his heart. He asked that if there was any other path, any other way, anything else would be preferable. God if there is any way for healing to come, if there is a way for you to supernaturally heal, if there is a way for this person to receive healing medicine, if there is any other way, let’s do that. Let’s walk the path of healing and restoration, please, that is my heart’s desire.
Then, Jesus says something else, “Not my will, but yours be done.”
When some read these words and pray them, it feels like a cop-out. It feels like giving up or not investing in the outcome, and it can be. Simply praying “thy will be done” can be a way for us to pass the buck, but it can be a supreme act of faith as well. We can say those words with a heart that trusts God’s perspective is greater than ours. We can trust that God’s healing sometimes comes in a release from suffering. We can trust that when our circumstances are full of pain, God is still good. “Thy will be done” can be “God I trust that you are good. I trust you to work good in this situation. I trust you to bring life where there seems only death.”
But I’m not Jesus.
Sometimes I have to follow that with “And help my unbelief.” My faith has room to grow. My trust has room to expand into areas that are unsteady. My belief is not 100% of what it could be. I won’t lie to you and pretend to have it all together. This is a struggle.
Paul didn’t have it all together, either, even as he penned much of the New Testament. He said it himself, “Not that I have already obtained all of this or have already been made perfect…” (Philippians 3:12) But his determination was to press forward into the circumstances that would bring growth.
This is where I stand: trusting, while asking for more faith; loving, when that love brings risk; praying my heart’s desire even when the outcomes are not guaranteed.
For me this honesty brings peace and rest in my soul.
And that’s ReFreshing.