Scripture passages from Isaiah 26, Isaiah 42, Isaiah 49

Since Heidi was diagnosed with cancer last Christmas, as her older sister and soulmate, I have existed in many, many different emotional states:

-Deep darkness. You can read about that here.

-Total trust and hope and joy in God.

-Day-to-day ordinariness when I try not to think about it all–just stay in motion, from coffee to work to school pick-up to dinner to reading and writing to bed–because it’s just. Too. Much.

-Intense anxiety, which has manifested itself in a near panic attack, shingles (yep, the rumors are true: they hurt), shortness of breath, eye twitches, removal from social spheres, and an inability to respond to Evites (you heard it here first).

-Supernatural peace.

-Constant crying.

My favorite of these states, to be obvious, is total trust in God. I was there just a few weeks ago. It was a beautiful time. It wasn’t just about peace, but about a gospel fire that for weeks felt like it was literally burning in my chest. I was learning things about the gospel, not just in an intellectual way, but in a holistic way, and I couldn’t shut up about it all. I felt its beauty. I felt the goodness of God. I felt the gorgeous vastness of the things I can’t understand. I was small, and safe, and exposed, and protected, and I absolutely had to tell everyone about it. It was a physical feeling, an emotional state, an awareness. It was sorrow and awe and longing. It was hunger and desire and purpose. I loved feeling that way. There was still lots of crying–but paired with intense worship.

In the path of your judgments,
O Lord, we wait for you;
your name and your renown
are the soul’s desire.

So . . . this is my prayer for Heidi today. God, that you would break through the barriers of physical pain, and depression, and the mental trap of long-term illness that demands all of Heidi’s attention, and ignite Heidi’s heart with gospel fire.

My soul yearns for you in the night,
my spirit within me earnestly seeks you.
For when your judgments are in the earth,
the inhabitants of the world learn righteousness.

Light her up with the beauty of your good news, with the glory of who you are and who we are in you, with the firmness of your promises, with the steadfastness of your grip on your children. That she would find herself worshiping, the horrors of her illness paling as your glory shines brighter and brighter.

And that she would testify. To doctors, nurses, friends, acquaintances, strangers. That she would be so full of your beauty that it would burst forth, because it has to.

Heidi’s purpose in life is to be a light to the nations, God. I’ll never forget when she told me that raising her kids to be lovers of God was not her life purpose. It was too small. She read me this passage:

It is too light a thing that you should be my servant to raise up the tribes of Jacob and to restore the survivors of Israel; I will give you as a light to the nations, that my salvation may reach to the end of the earth.

That verse is Heidi’s life calling.

God, I’ve never known someone with such gospel vision as Heidi. With such a pure desire to spread your good news as far as she could. You know that she lived out this vision with her daily decisions, getting up before 5 in the morning sometimes to meet and read the Bible with a friend, forming prayer groups, leading Bible studies, caring for the real needs of the people around her–giving her time, her money, her energy.

God, Heidi has been such a tremendous witness to you. You know how many people she has ministered to over the years. All the women she’s read the Bible with, met with, prayed with, many of whom are praying for her now.

Don’t let her light go out. Don’t let the illness snuff out this mission that you ignited her heart with. Fan the flame in Heidi and let it ignite so many others . . . more than she can count.

God, I pray very specifically that you would give Heidi someone to minister to now. Bring someone along who is spiritually younger, someone Heidi can mentor and teach, even during this time. Remind Heidi that you’re not done with her yet. Give her a job, and the strength to do it.

I am the Lord, I have called you in righteousness,
I have taken you by the hand and kept you;
I have given you as a covenant to the people,
a light to the nations,
to open the eyes that are blind,
to bring out the prisoners from the dungeon,
from the prison those who sit in darkness.

Let the fruit of Heidi’s sickness be a whole new crop of people who put their trust in you. And let Heidi witness this herself.

The children born in the time of your bereavement
will yet say in your hearing:
“The place is too crowded for me;
make room for me to settle.”
Then you will say in your heart,
Who has borne me these?
I was bereaved and barren,
exiled and put away—
so who has reared these?
I was left all alone—
where then have these come from?”

Put Heidi’s cancer to work for your kingdom, and let it become one more story of her powerful ministry.