A Prayer for Peace

[18] I consider that our present sufferings are not worth comparing with the glory that will be revealed in us.

[26] In the same way, the Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groans that words cannot express. [27] And he who searches our hearts knows the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for the saints in accordance with God's will. [28]And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose. [29] For those God foreknew he also predestined to be conformed to the likeness of his Son, that he might be the firstborn among many brothers. [30] And those he predestined, he also called; those he called, he also justified; those he justified, he also glorified.

Romans 8: 18, 26-30

A friend of mine passed away last night. His war with cancer ended in the wee morning hours, and I was notified via text of the outcome. My friend had moved to a new, permanent address… and I wouldn’t be able to see him for awhile. It was sobering news, but not a newsflash. We had all known things weren’t looking good. A group of college peers and I fasted all day yesterday, praying and meditating for his recovery. It would seem as though our prayers were not answered, however, because my friend is no longer with us. It would seem as though God heard our prayers, but for whatever reason, declined to heed them. But the Lord works in mysterious ways…

Sometimes I wonder whether or not our prayers to preserve other’s lives are made in vain. Are our prayers made in vain, not in the sense that God neglects to hear them… but vain in the true sense of vanity? Are we praying to God because we want Him to reward our loved one with a few more years, months, or hours of life? Or, are we praying because we want to keep this person around for our own sense of comfort, reassurance and self-worth?

I have never experienced a terminal illness, and would not wish such a prognosis on my worst enemy. To endure and survive something so grave attests to the strength of the human spirit. But the road cannot be easy. The physical pain alone must be catastrophic. Coupled with fatigue, mental and spiritual exhaustion, and a plethora of other damning circumstances, I imagine life morphs into a constant uphill battle with little (if any) relief. I wonder if the alternative ever becomes appealing to those enduring this indescribable pain. Instead of waking up each morning, and waging a war with death, is it conceivable that God’s Eternal Kingdom might be preferable? And if so, who are we to debate such reasoning? WE are not the ones suffering. WE are not the ones in pain. It’s touchy, I know…

My paternal grandmother has been in and out of the hospital as well, recently. She has lived a full life. She raised seven children by herself; in the ghetto of a small, rural town.
My father grew up in a single-parent home with three brothers and three sisters. They slept head-to-foot in shared beds. They picked cotton in the summers. They got by on mayonnaise sandwiches. To live in the ghetto of a mildly populated rural town screams poverty…and yet my grandmother keeps on kicking.

She endured the passing of her husband when my father was four. After I was born, she witnessed the passing of her youngest son – my father’s brother and closest sibling. She watched her oldest son stray from the family. She watched her grandchildren grow up. She’s watching her great-grandchildren mature. She has lived a full life.

And, she must be tired. She battles diabetes daily. She lives alone, two hours away from her closest relatives. Is God preparing us for the day when she will no longer be with us? Her health is failing, and yet she continues to fight. She has been fighting her whole life! Is there no rest for the weary? I love my grandmother dearly and for my father’s sake, I am deeply grateful that she is still with us. But, is it not vain to pray for her life, if by doing so we are merely benefitting ourselves? Instead of praying for life, perhaps we should pray for peace, and the doing of God’s will.

In both instances, I’m witnessing friends, family and loved ones fall apart over the death and illness of my friend and grandmother, respectively. People are falling apart. Heartbreaking news warrants reclusiveness, meditation, prayer, and tears. We are given an opportunity to evaluate our own lives and celebrate the significance of new, brighter days. Perhaps I’m jaded… because I know that if either of my parents or siblings were to pass, “falling apart” would be an understatement. I would be a wreck. I would be spiritually, mentally an emotionally drained, in search of unattainable answers. So, I do get it. I do understand. But, in the former instances, however, I think sound perspective is imperative. I have and will continue to pray for peace. I pray that my friend has found it with God, and I pray that my grandmother will find it, wherever it may be…