Some days I come to you and know exactly what I’m asking
for. Today is not one of those days.
For 11 ½ years I have prayed that you would heal my wife
from cancer. I rejoiced with you when
the treatments worked well and she felt good.
I lamented when the cancer grew and she felt lousy. Her health always hit the top of my prayer
list.
Now, over a month into hospice, I don’t have any idea what
to pray for anymore.
A part of me wants
as much time with her as I can get.
We’ve had the blessing of some wonderful time together in these past
weeks. We’ve been able to plan the
funeral, write the obituary, and think together about what life will be like
for me after she is gone. It’s been a
blessing and I thank you for that. A
part of me prays for more days…more conversations…more love.
But another part of me struggles to see her body wasting
away. Eating is nearly impossible. She can barely even drink without throwing up
even though she’s incredibly thirsty.
She has lost so much weight that she is down to skin and bones. The pain is growing again so we’re increasing
the medications to take care of it. She
sleeps most of the time. God, it’s hard
to watch someone you love struggle so much.
Last Sunday in worship there was a focus on lamenting and we had the
opportunity to write prayers on the wall.
I found myself writing, “Come sweet death.”
See what I mean?
These requests don’t fit together.
I want Shannon to be at peace. I
want all this suffering to end. I want to have as many days with her as I
can.
So this morning I come in prayer, not knowing what to
say. I guess it’s not a day to ask for
anything. For today, these verses from
Romans 8 will have to suffice:
Likewise the Spirit helps us in our weakness; for we do not
know how to pray as we ought, but that very Spirit intercedes with sighs too
deep for words.
Holy Spirit, intercede for me today. I’m at a loss.
Pete
Pete, I ache for you as I have struggled with the same lack of words and knowing what to pray. Peace only comes when I remember that eternity is a very long time indeed and I believe that relationships resume and evolve every time we commune with God and his children. I know it's not physically the same. And I know the longing is for more physical time and conversation and love. But there is a peace that when at long last, that is no more, that there is still more togetherness. *sigh* I don't have the words for it, only I know and feel my Mom is with me because of our connection in Christ. I know that death is not the end. I pray for that peace to fill you.
ReplyDeletePete I am so sorry that you all are going through this. What will and strength you and Shannon both have. I also understand the struggle you speak of in a much lesser scale. Going through it with my dad who had lived a full life and 86 was difficult, can't imagine the "cheated" feeling of not enough time. You two lived and loved so well in the days that you had. God knows your pain, Shannon's pain and Ben's pain...He is in the midst and what a sweet blessing meeting Jesus will be for Shannon. To dance in heaven healthy and whole...that's what you hold onto and hang your hat on....It's the true definition of Bitter Sweet....bitter for the loss for us...Sweet for Shannon's victory! My thoughts and prayers are with you!
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