See that handsome chubby boy on the left.
This is going to be a life-changing moment for me. And hopefully for you. And him, the chubby one on the left with the big grin. Today for the first time in months, I type with baited breath and a racing heart.
Today I write with a prayer request. A request for an act of God to fall upon that boy on the left. For a miracle of healing to occur in said boy's life. You see, that boy is no longer young and chubby and life-filled. He is now sixty and chubby and demented (literally). As his brain continues to dismantle itself, his body remains strong and unwilling to buckle. While his body could physically handle running a marathon, his brain would be overstimulated by fellow racers, he'd be unable to follow the route, in fact, he'd wear jeans and slippers to the starting line. You see, his brain is disentigrating with every passing moment. But his body remains.
You think I'm writing to ask you to pray for his brain to be restored. For him to return home to us, his family, and provide like he once did. For it to obvious to him that I'm Amber, his baby girl. But today I'm not asking for that. I don't want him back. After three and a half years of worry, tears, and exhaustion -physically, emotionally, and spiritually-, I've let go. And I'm trying to let God, but I need Him to act. We, that boy, his family, and me, need Him to act in a big, God way.
"For he has not despisedA)"> or scorned the suffering of the afflicted one;B)">
he has not hidden his faceC)"> from him, but has listened to his cry for help."
America has turned prayer into a Santa Wishlist of sorts.
You know, God heal her of cancer.
And restore Grandma's hearing.
God help me stop sinning,
and, please, I'm selfish, let's take care of that too.
Speaking of, I can barely afford life -so money would be appreciated.
And if you're going to take away,
(I've heard that happens sometimes)
make it something in the margins.
Or even my neighbor's dog.
But keep my family and friends safe.
That prayer is all about me, us, not Him.
My prayer request goes against all I've ever been taught about prayer. Church has always said prayer is to make things better, good, to keep us all healthy and safe. Today, my prayer is one of mercy for that boy turned very sick man.
Yes, God's great and mighty and good. So much so, I long for my dad to meet His glorious maker.
That chubby boy grew into a successful entrepreneur who's brain betrayed him. That, once genius man, is now broken -unable to recognize his family or put together a simple sentence. Some long for him to get better here on earth. To what point? For him to suffer and die at a later date? You think that would be fun for any of us? The last three and a half years must be for lessons learned, for His glory. Praying a selfish give-him-back-to-us-miracle prayer denies the glory of Heaven. And the maker of all things -including an eternal heavenly home.
"For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worthy
to be compared with the glory that is to be revealed to us."
If I had the choice to (A) live unable to spell my own name, dictate my birth date, or remember that shampoo is for my hair and essential to good hygiene, or (B) live free of pain -physically and emotionally-, with my quick wit and dry humor restored, and to do work beside the Heavenly Host, you'd bet I'd pick B. And so would the man that became of that chubby boy.
"Yes, we are of good courage, and we would rather be away from the body
and at home with the Lord."
So today, redefine miracles and prayer.
Pray that three years and a half years is enough for Him and for that chubby boy.
Pray that what God needs to see done before He brings that boy home is satisfied.
Pray for the God to do what He does best -take action on behalf of the suffering.
