Do you know what you are praying for?
We started going to a new church a few weekend ago, and one of the sermons was on praying for healing. Which obviously peaked my intrust seeing as I prayed for months for God to heal Logan. What I took away from the sermon was that you have to dive deep into what you are praying for. I prayed for months for healing for Logan, I wanted him to not suffer. I prayed that if God should take him, that he make it quick. But what was I really praying for? To be honest, on the surface I was praying for Logan to stay with me. I wanted his encephalocele gone, or at least operable to where he could have a satisfying life. But in my heart, I was praying for his healing. Complete healing. And God answered that prayer. Logan is healed, in Heaven prancing around with joy. He knows only happiness. He won’t suffer, just as I asked God. He is perfectly healed, just like I asked God. It may not have been the obvious answer I was looking for, but is nonetheless, the answer I asked for.
Today a friend sent me a text message, God had laid me heavy on her heart, and she’d been praying for me. At the time, I reflected back on the day I’d had thus far. We had chosen to skip morning church and go to the evening service instead. Josh was pushing for morning, but I felt completely uninterested and really felt convicted to go to the evening service. The day had been pretty uneventful. Nothing obvious popped into my head, so I told her thank you and just let it sit there. Tonight at service, appeared to be as any service would run, until this young man (I think he was about 13) started singing a solo. It took me a second to catch it, the music was a little different, and to be honest, I wasn’t giving it my full attention at the moment. But as soon as I realized what it was, my heart started pacing. I could feel my chest lifting rather quickly as my breathing deepened. I tried holding my breath to calm myself down. And then it just came, in waves. Racking my head, my heart, my soul. I pinched my eyes with my fingers to try and stop the tears, but I could still hear, every word he spoke. With my eyes pinched shut, the room shifted back to the mortuary 4 months ago. I could feel everyone’s presence around me. I sat there and listened to this young boy sing, and remembered Logan; remembered my pain; remembered my ache with God. As the song came to a close, I released my fingers from my eyes and wiped the tears. I looked over and saw Wyatt broken on my lap, much like at Logan’s funeral. I was listening now God. My friend’s earlier text suddenly made perfect sense to me.
Recently I confided in a few of my girlfriends that I was feeling at a loss connecting with Jesus in prayer. I go to church, I restrain myself from joining in with the praise and worship songs. But I truly listen to the sermon and take in what I’m being taught. I started a Bible study with a group of women. But each devotional day after reading through that days lesson, I would skip the prayer section. I felt like I was making progress by doing the study itself. But I was still struggling talking with God. I’ve never had that problem before.
When I think about talking with God, it feels awkward. Quite honestly, the best way I know to describe it is like that really close friend you have, that you quit talking to for a really long time. Then one day, they popped back into your life, and you have no clue what to say to them. The ease of conversation is no longer there. The comfort in knowing you can say whatever you want is no longer there. And things just get awkward fast. That is me and God right now. I think about praying all the time. Occasionally on a few tense moments I’ve had, I was quick to prayer without even realizing I had just relied on God. I know one day we will talk as friends again, and I look forward to it. Until then I find peace in remembering God knows my every thought, concern, happiness, sadness, etc. What I can’t intentionally say to Him, He already knows.
I asked my friends for their prayers. What I got in return was not just prayers but love, support, encouragement and understanding. How blessed I am to have found such amazing people in such undesirable circumstances. After this evenings service, I sent my friend a text message, explaining that I finally understood her text. She made a good point, it only seems fitting that God would use music to break down my wall in his house. To allow him to penetrate into my heart and my soul where I am most weak. To show me each time he enters, how loved I am. And no matter how low I may go in my rabbit hole from time to time, I am still saved. I am still precious. I am still a child of God. I am still going to see him some day. And I am still going to see Logan one day.