Category Archives: Prayer

The Journal: Will it be widowhood?

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I remember the first moment the word “widow” entered my mind. It was about a year ago, just a few days before Nate and I were told he had terminal pancreatic cancer. I was sitting in a warm tub in the early morning hours after Nate had had a bad night with intense back pain. He was finally asleep, and I grabbed the chance to decompress (and think) behind closed doors.

The tub wasn’t even full before I was weeping, panicky at the unknowns in our immediately future. What if Nate really had cancer? What if he died? What if I became a widow?

Feeling isolated as a woman who’d just moved 110 miles away from her sister, her girlfriends, her prayer groups and her church, I clutched. But God, the tender Father, interrupted that downward thought-spiral by flooding my mind with a list of caring friends. These were women who would come to me if I asked, women who were faithful to God but also to me. They were people I could call at any hour, confident they would give me good counsel and be willing shoulders to cry on. In thinking of them, I knew I would make it… even if I became a widow.

When I climbed out of the tub, I felt much better than when I’d climbed in, even though our circumstances hadn’t changed. But God had spoken to my need, demonstrating again how close he was. And that’s one of the awesome things about him. He’s intimately aware of where we stand at every given moment, knowing precisely what we need. My focus, and also that of Nate and I together as a couple, had been riveted on his health issues for many months. God knew my meltdown was coming, and he knew exactly when. He was ready.

I’ve learned God is practical and that he faithfully rushes toward our needs with sufficiency. He perfectly measures out ideas and vigor to cover every situation. As a doctor matches drugs to a patient’s illness, God matches aid to his children’s crises.

A sensible daily prayer for all of us is, “Lord, prepare me for whatever’s coming, and when it gets here, show me what to do.”

And he will.

He did it during my bath-time meltdown and has repeatedly rescued me throughout the last bumpy year. I still crave and pray for his preparation, because new crises will surely come. But I’ve witnessed how superbly he answers that prayer, and I don’t ever want to be caught weeping over bad news without having first invited God to get me ready for it.

As for my God-inspired list of women supporters, as I thought about each name he’d given me, I realized how amazing his help really was. Every single one on his list was a widow.

“Such is the confidence that we have through Christ toward God. Not that we are sufficient in ourselves to claim anything as coming from us, but our sufficiency is from God.”

(2 Corinthians 3:4-5)

The Journal: Working at Worry

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A year ago, as Nate’s back pain escalated but before we learned that his greater problem was deadly cancer, I was distraught with worry. During the night, questions overwhelmed me:

1.  Will the back surgery help?

2.  How long will the benefit last?

3.  Will he be able to keep working?

4.  How many surgeries will there be?

5.  And at the end of the surgeries, what will life be like for Nate?

6.  How much pain?

7.  Will he end up in a wheelchair?

8.  Should I go job-hunting?

9.  Will we have to move again?

Questions swirled like gathering clouds along Tornado Alley, ruining many a night’s sleep. When morning came, Nate would pursue the same routine he’d functioned in for 37 years, getting ready for work and climbing on a commuter train to get there. But what had been automatic gradually became a white-knuckle effort motivated only by his strong sense of duty. As we paced through the September days leading to the discovery of his cancer, Nate’s work days grew shorter, yet he remained resolute. “I’ve just got to work,” he said one morning when his pain was especially high. “It’s my job to provide.”

Deep down I believe he knew that if he quit, if he stepped away from the fast-paced working mentality of his Chicago routine, his pain would expand to fill the void. As much as he was looking forward to retirement, “going to work” was what he did best.

As for me, my spirits lifted when I knew he was able to work, because it meant his pain was manageable that day. It meant he could still fight the good fight. But what about my torment of worry during the wee-hours? What could be done about that?

Gradually both of us had made things worse, Nate by over-working his debilitated body and me by letting anxiety dominate. As Nate’s suffering had increased, we’d fallen for the lie that he and I were in charge, a ludicrous notion. The only thing I could think to do was to pray Scripture verses over our situation and over Nate. It would bring help to him and would remind me to “cast my cares on God.” (1 Peter 5:7)

I wrote the verses in my journal and prayed them through with pen and ink, hopeful God would intervene dramatically in Nate’s life and by that, in mine. Today, from the vantage point of one year later, I studied these same verses prayed a year ago in desperation and am utterly stricken by how God took the words literally and answered each prayer in a spectacular way.

From the journal:

“Cause Nate to wait on you, Lord. Renew his strength so he’ll be able to rise above the pain, to mount up with wings like an eagle. May he run in your strength rather than his own, escaping weariness, walking through this trial without fainting.” (Isaiah 40:31)

“May Nate quickly come to you, Lord, because he is laboring under heavy burdens. May he find the rest you’re offering.” (Matthew 11:28)

“Please protect Nate from all harm. Protect his soul from evil.” (Psalm 121:7)

“Please give Nate hope for a positive future, even a new beginning. Until then, give him courage.” (Psalm 31:24)

And according to these verses and many others, God did every bit of it with excellence….especially the part about Nate’s new beginning.

Hurry up and change.

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When I was in 6th grade, Marjie Simmons was my best friend. One school day we were outside during recess when she said, “Something bad’s gonna happen.”

“What?” I said.

“We have to move.”

I was speechless. Marjie told me she wouldn’t be going to 7th grade with me, because she’d be living hundreds of miles away. This was devastating. When I told Mom, she kindly sympathized, but Dad said, “What’s all the fuss about? Before long you’ll forget all about her.”

My eleven-year-old heart was broken, because in my mind Marjie would always be #1. The thought of forgetting her was beyond comprehension. Dad’s comment bothered me for a long time, but of course he hadn’t meant any harm. What he did mean was that the sadness of Marjie’s departure wouldn’t last long, since other girlfriends would take her place. Although he hadn’t spoken with much tact, he was right.

I often wonder about Marjie. Where is she now? What has her life been like? Marjie probably moved away from our friendship as fast as I did, because children go through life changes like water through a funnel. They’re not the only ones changing, though. We adults change, too, which is good. The opposite would be sluggishness and eventually stagnation, and no one wants those.

A child’s goals are reachable: learning to walk, tying a bow, writing a name. Later it’s a little more work: conquering a sport, getting a license, buying a car. Once the childhood goals are met, things get downright complicated: choosing a career, finding a mate, conquering a bad habit. And every bit of it is change requiring growth.

Underneath the constant changing ought to be a quest for growth of intangible but lasting value: a desire to help someone in need, love the unlovable, explore a relationship with God.

My sister Mary and I once had a talk about our prayer lives. Comparing ourselves to Mom, who prayed a great deal, we were pathetic. We rode on her coattails for years. But God convicted both of us, and eventually we responded to his prayer invitation.

Then Mom died. We found ourselves wondering who would fill the prayer-void Mom left behind, especially in reference to requests made for our families.

“Maybe that’s us?” I said.

“And we got there just in time,” Mary added.

Although that change was long in coming, it’s one example of adult growth. We all have change-choice options. I should always be asking, “How can I do better? Where can I grow? What does God want me to do?” To follow his lead is to avoid a stall or stagnation.

Marjie Simmons and I quickly grew apart as kids, exactly as Dad had predicted. If we met again, it’s probable we both would have changed radically since our days together in 6th grade. But all that change might just be good enough to bring us together as brand new friends.

Hmmm. I wonder if I could find Marjie on Facebook…

”We ask God to give you complete knowledge of his will and to give you spiritual wisdom and understanding. Then… you will grow as you learn to know God better and better.” (Colossians 1:9b-10)