A prayer for the broken

Sweet Lord, as my friend Sherry lies in the ICU, with tubes and monitors and so many things that are unknown, I lean towards You. Towards what is known. I turn towards life. Towards the One who grants life and who isn’t fazed by its earthly limits. The One who sees past our finite measure ...

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Sweet Lord, as my friend Sherry lies in the ICU, with tubes and monitors and so many things that are unknown, I lean towards You. Towards what is known.

I turn towards life. Towards the One who grants life and who isn’t fazed by its earthly limits. The One who sees past our finite measure of time and understands that there is so much more.

Though she is weak, You have the strength to bear all things. Though she is frail, You are unshaken and unbending. So I lean on You, the source of all power.

Though tests aren’t complete, I lean on your knowledge. Though I don’t understand the whys and hows, I can relax because You do. Though I don’t know what to expect, I know You are never surprised.

Though I don’t know anything—how her family can bear watching and waiting, how her body can withstand one thing after another, how much damage there’s been and if it is reparable—I remind myself, again and again, of the one thing I do know. You. You’re the God of the broken. The restorer of life. The source of forgiveness, the provider of hope, the healer with powers we can’t begin to fathom.

So as I picture her there, I’m redrawing the image in my mind to include You. Because though the room may seem sterile and empty, Your presence is great and fathomless. Though she may be still and unmoving, I imagine the active dialog in her mind. I imagine that You and she are communing. That words aren’t necessary. I’m remembering that You always heal the mind before the body, so I’m believing that in all the things that really matter, You have made her whole. She discovered, long ago, and in many different situations, that You can do what no one else can. That You can bring life when the only words people can whisper are those of death. That You can transform what the world sees as ashes into a thing of monumental beauty.

There are so many things we’ll never understand. Innumerable, uncountable, infinite questions.

But in every one of them, we already know the answer. You. The Mystery that has allowed itself to be revealed. The Character that is unwavering. The Hope that is our deepest longing. You. The One. The Only. The Lord God Almighty.

And we close our eyes. And we are assured that You have not left her. That You are cradling her gently, not missing a single heart beat, not missing a single tear.

And though our hearts cry out, our souls rejoice. And we wait, holding tight to You.

 

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