I don' t know if I can write this post.
I don't know if I should write this post.
I don't know how NOT to write this post.
It's always been my practice to be very careful with the stories I tell on this blog. There are lives at stake in my stories and I don't want to violate the privacy of those I know and love. Most of the stories any of us know aren't our own stories, after all. We weave in and out with other people like we live on a giant loom and are merely one colorful strand of yarn. Together we make a lovely piece of cloth vibrant enough to parallel any sunset, strong enough to withstand any gale, and long enough to last from this life to the next. And I love all the different skeins of yarn I get to engage with, how it makes my life richer in every way imaginable.
But sometimes the strongest, most vibrant, most beautiful pieces of yarn begin to break. I've written of this before. This old diseased earth and sin and the enemy mean that we get sick. That's the truth of life on this planet.
I'm here to tell you today, I HATE THAT TRUTH!
I hate that someone so beloved can be so sick that unless God intervenes in a profound way, her life will end very soon. It's a heartbreaking, surreal thing to go from health to heartbreak in one short month.
But contained in that last short paragraph are the three words that count:
UNLESS GOD INTERVENES
Upon those words our history as believers rests. It's our bedrock. From Abraham to Moses to Jesus to countless others through out the centuries, we hear those words ring, and see them written across the sky in the bold letters of faith. Abraham led his son up a mountain and God intervened. Moses led the people out of bondage because God intervened.
Mary and Martha asked Jesus to intervene for their brother Lazarus. And He said, "This sickness is not unto death, but unto the glory of God."
So I stand with these faithful and pray for my beloved.
But I also must be honest and say this:
Jesus prayed in a garden that God would intervene.
And then He said, "Nevertheless, not my will but THINE be done."
That's what I want to get to right now for my beloved friend.
I admit I'm not there today.
I don't know how to get there. There's no part of me that wants to admit that anything other than MY desire could be God's will for her, for her husband and family and HUGE circle of beloveds. So I sit here, praying only what I can pray.
THAT God will intervene, that HE will part the waters, destroy the enemy (within) and do a mighty miracle.
Her gorgeous skein of yarn in this life is too vital, too unfinished.
*If you're reading this, please pray for my friend.