Scripture excerpts from Isaiah 43, Isaiah 52, Isaiah 54, Isaiah 58, Psalm 62

If the kidneys on day #3 of praying together felt like the Big One, this feels like a mountain so insurmountable, I almost didn’t want to pray about it. I wanted to find something else small–doable–measurable. I love praying about those little things–like the free parking situation that ended up becoming an inside joke between me and God. Or the pacifier miracle. But huge things, like world peace? Violence in Chicago? My realistic side says, well, that’s not going to happen. 

Funny that I wrote four prayer posts prior to this one, and didn’t pray for Heidi’s cancer to go away in a single one. Cancer is the reason Heidi’s sick. And I think, if I’m honest, I almost didn’t pray about it because my realistic side says, yeah–no. Not gonna happen. I asked her primary doctor once, “Is there any scenario in which the cancer would go into remission, and she wouldn’t need a bone marrow transplant at all?” Hear that? Any scenario. The doctor looked me in the eye and said, “No. There is no scenario.”

Here’s the thing about realism. There are two kinds. There’s a healthy, grounded realism that’s basically common sense. Our brain takes past, observable patterns, and assumes the future will align itself with that pattern. This kind of realism might say things like, “If you don’t eat lunch in the next thirty minutes, you’re going to get cranky.” Because, um, that happens every single day. Or, “If you try to carry too many things at once you might drop them.” Correct. Put the baby down.

But there’s another kind that is actually a lack of faith in disguise. The best way to tell the difference, I’m finding, is that the second kind wants to prevent you from praying. It starts out the same–there’s an observable pattern that’s occurred in the past, and you assume the future will map itself onto that pattern. But then, it brings you to a full stop. Maybe, like me, it doesn’t even occur to you to pray about the thing that’s troubling you, or stressing you out, or driving you to tears, because we think we already know what’s going to happen.

This false realism wants to stop hope before it even starts. It shows you a vision of the future that seems wager-worthy. It pretends it’s common sense, and can even feel like a certain kind of wisdom. But friends, don’t be deceived. If it stops you from crying out to God, it’s the work of the enemy. False realism tells me, Heidi will not recover immediately. Be real. Best case scenario, it will happen progressively, and with the right treatment plan.

The thing is, maybe it will be so. Maybe Heidi will respond to the medications, get a transplant, and get better from there. And that would be a great outcome! But if that little voice of “most likely scenario” stops me from taking the request to God for complete and immediate healing, it’s actually a lack of faith.

The person of faith, I’m convinced, can take that realism, tell it to sit down, and then pray their heart out for the impossible. Because God is a pattern breaker. And we can approach him any time we want–in fact, he wants us to. So why not ask? Are we perhaps afraid that if we ask, and it doesn’t come true, our faith will prove empty? (I am) Are we afraid that if God doesn’t do what we ask, we’ll be so disappointed and crushed that our faith will wither away? (I am) Friends, let’s let go of those fears. Let God deal with the outcome. Will he always do what we want, when we want it? Not always. But that cannot stop us from praying.

Trust in him at all times, O people;
pour out your heart before him;
God is a refuge for us.

God, we want you to drive the cancer out of Heidi’s blood. Take the root of all these other sicknesses and yank it out.

No weapon that is fashioned against you shall prosper,
and you shall confute every tongue that rises against you in judgment.
This is the heritage of the servants of the Lord
and their vindication from me, says the Lord.

We want complete healing for Heidi. I’d be happy if you got her through transplant and she was healed that way. But in the spirit of asking for what I truly want, no matter how impossible, I ask that she miraculously won’t even need a transplant. That the situation her doctor said would not happen in any scenario will happen. That the cancer will leave, with no trace in her body remaining, and that doctors and nurses will have no idea what happened.

The Lord has bared his holy arm
before the eyes of all the nations;
and all the ends of the earth shall see
the salvation of our God.

Full healing, God. That’s what we want. Not partial healing. Not survival with a life-long struggle of graft-versus-host after her transplant. Not survival with weird after-effects. Not survival with damaged organs and a weakened heart. Full, complete, all-encompassing healing that restores Heidi in every detail of her body.

God, this is what I want for my sister. Bring us there. Only you can.

Perhaps because this is such an all-encompassing request, I don’t have much else to say, God. it seems unbelievable that you would even do it, not to mention all at once. But in the spirit of bold prayer, dear pattern-breaking Father who broke the claim of death on us:

Please heal Heidi completely today, June 14th. Bring her healing swiftly like that passage Erica opened to in the hospital.

Then your light shall break forth like the dawn,
and your healing shall spring up quickly;
your vindicator shall go before you,
the glory of the Lord shall be your rear guard.

Let it spring up quickly. Let the doctors be like, what the **** just happened? Let all of us stand in amazement, and laugh, and cry, and fall to our knees in worship, because we don’t serve the God of history who only acted in ancient times, but the great I Am, the God of Abraham who is also my God, the one to whom the victory belongs, the one who loves us with a love that’s not small and weak and fickle but so huge we can’t escape it, or do anything to lessen it. Rain down your love and power, for everyone who knows Heidi to see who you are, to know you are real, and to be blinded by the glory of your good news, which is real and active and strong and beautiful and worth clinging to like our life depends on it–because it does.

Let all the nations gather together,
and let the peoples assemble.
Who among them declared this,
and foretold to us the former things?
Let them bring their witnesses to justify them,
and let them hear and say, “It is true.”
You are my witnesses, says the Lord,
and my servant whom I have chosen,
so that you may know and believe me
and understand that I am he.

I believe you, God.

Before me no god was formed,
nor shall there be any after me.
I, I am the Lord,
and besides me there is no savior.

I know it, God! There’s no one besides you.

I declared and saved and proclaimed,
when there was no strange god among you;
and you are my witnesses, says the Lord.
I am God, and also henceforth I am He;
there is no one who can deliver from my hand;
I work and who can hinder it?

God, let Heidi’s cornerstone passage of Isaiah 54 come true today.

O afflicted one, storm-tossed, and not comforted,
I am about to set your stones in antimony,
and lay your foundations with sapphires.
I will make your pinnacles of rubies,
your gates of jewels,
and all your wall of precious stones.
All your children shall be taught by the Lord,
and great shall be the prosperity of your children.
In righteousness you shall be established;
you shall be far from oppression, for you shall not fear;
and from terror, for it shall not come near you.

Amen.