"Mom passed June twentieth -- almost a month now," he replied.
"I'm so sorry. I hadn't heard," I apologized.
Awkward, right? I felt so awful. I know, though, that kind of thing happens all the time. It's not like we're best friends. We don't even work the same shift. I wouldn't necessarily have known. I didn't know. But here's the thing I thought was most awkward: I'd just prayed for this man and his mom that morning. And several mornings before. In fact, since the day she'd passed, I had probably prayed for her at least five or six times. Her health had been declining, so she'd been on my prayer list for months. And he, by association, had been as well. He was still very much alive, of course, but for almost a month now, I'd been praying for a dead woman. Where had those prayers been going? They certainly hadn't made it to the "YES" file. And why hadn't God sent some sort of memo that I could stop now?
A few months ago, Scott and I purchased a table from an online yard sale. It was just what we'd been looking for -- and dirt cheap! We pulled up in front of the amazing Victorian with the "For Sale" sign. "Must be a job transfer," I thought. If only. A marriage was over. Pictures of their baby were everywhere. A beautiful, young woman with sad eyes forced the corners of her mouth up a bit as we talked. As I stood in that beautiful old home, knowing the decimating power of divorce, I felt something like a grave robber. Dreams were dashed, laughter extinguished, possibilities ended -- and an hour before we'd been anticipating the wonderful bargain we were getting. I've been praying for her ever since. That she heals. That her child heals. That she is able to provide for herself and her now much smaller family. But I won't know -- at least not on this side of Eternity -- what happens. And not having the answer doesn't mean God didn't grant my request.
I think most people have a basic understanding of prayer. We thank God for our food, we eat, God gives us food for the next day. Lather, rinse, repeat. We ask Him to watch over our families when we are apart; we arrive home, everyone's good, we go on. But what about those prayers that you're praying long after the person has been healed? Or hasn't? What about the prayers we're lead to pray, but we'll never know the outcome? That is the thing about prayer. Yes, it is about our care for others. Yes, it is about standing on the gap for people who don't pray or can't pray or just want someone else in their corner. Yes, it is about seeing God work, and seeing good things come about as a result of prayer. But prayer is the building block of relationship. It is a way we get to know God, and others, and ourselves. My prayers for this man and his mother revealed to God my real desires for others -- especially those who may not know Him -- and ignited my passion for His glory to be known. My prayers for this man and his mother showed me how the Holy Spirit speaks to me as I pray, leading me toward compassion and a deeper love for others. My prayers for this young woman and her situation brought back to me some of the pain and hopelessness that I felt in the days after my divorce, and how God has raised up beauty from ashes! My prayers for this young woman and her situation drew me closer in spirit to her, and enabled me to pray with power for the healing of her child and the revelation of God's purpose for her life.
I may not know all the ins and outs of what is going on with those for whom I pray. I may not even know if they are with us this side of heaven. After all, if prayer was strictly a way of asking for stuff and watching it happen, no one would ever lose their job, or die, or hurt someone else. We could all draft our list up every morning, and get on with our day. Through prayer, though, we come to God fully prepared to be honest, transparent before Him. (And if we're not, He reveals that to us pretty quickly.) We take the arm of Jesus as He walks us into the very presence of God, our Heavenly Father. We bow before Him, giving Him as much of the honor our finite beings can lavish upon Him, He opens His ears to us, and we speak our hearts. Wanting the things that we ask, but wanting Him even more.
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