Fear, prayer & faith

I've been thinking a lot—A LOT—about prayer lately.

Last week, our good friend David Pearson died after a 2 1/2-year struggle with cancer. (I wrote my Down Home column about David. If you knew him, you would've loved him. Read about him here.)  If prayer, faith, courage and humor were the only variables in beating cancer, David would be so well now, he'd be whipping Lance Armstrong and everybody else in the Tour de France today.

God tallies "votes"?

So, I don't know how prayer "works." We offer prayers for friends and loved ones, and sometimes prayer seems like some sort of cosmic American Idol: Sarah gets enough prayers, and her health is fully restored; a few less, and she makes it but uses a wheelchair the rest of her life; fewer still, and she dies.

Don't shoot me. I only said it feels like that. But if you've ever interceded for someone who just kept getting sicker and sicker and died, you probably have felt that way, too. 

And for today, I don't even want to counter with theology of heaven—that a Christian is far better off after this earthly life is over. I believe that's true, but I'm still struggling to balance the goodness of heaven with all that's not good about prayers that don't seem to be answered.

Prayer in the real world

Think of my friend David, for example. We watched him suffer these past years. So, yes, he's finally done with chemo. Yes, his body no longer wastes away. He's cracking jokes with Jesus and Moses and his own friends and loved ones who went to heaven before he did.

But—and David knew this—all those prayers asking God to remove every single cancer cell from his body weren't simply about David. They were about Lezlie and their children, Hunter and Mackenzie. So, David's better off. They're not. 

Hold your fire. I respect God's sovereignty. And I realize our minds are finite, while God's wisdom is infinite. God's purposes are greater than our own. So, who am I to question God? 

Well, I'm just someone who's been on the short end of what seem to be plenty of unanswered prayers, dating back a long, long time.

God's big enough and loving enough to take my anger and disappointment. Prayer is simply talking to God, my heavenly Father. And if I can't be honest with God (who already knows the depths of my heart), then who can I be honest with?

Irresistible pull of prayer

So, I confess I don't "get" prayer—at least as a talisman for making things happen. And yet I feel irresistably drawn to prayer, especially in times of crisis and uncertainty and pain.

I want—no, I need—for God to know how I feel. Even when I don't agree with God's ultimate decision.

Today, I still lament God's answer regarding David. But I began the day praying for Lezlie, Hunter and Mackenzie, who need to feel God's presence and "the peace that surpasses all understanding." You probably don't know them, but I'd be grateful if you'd pray for them, too.

Pray for Maggie Lee

And also please pray for Maggie Lee Henson and her mom and dad, Jinny and John. Maggie Lee is the most seriously injured survivor of the bus accident involving students and sponsors from First Baptist Church in Shreveport. Maggie Lee suffered severe brain injury, and the coming hours are crucial.

I'm praying for her to recover, for Jinny and John and all those who love Maggie Lee to feel God's presence and peace, and for all the medical staff to make perfect decisions every moment.

Sometimes, all you can do—despite fear and because of faith—is pray.