You need to read this. It’s long, but you need to hear it. Somewhere, someone out there needs this today.
My prayer life has sucked. Life has sucked. When compared to some, my struggles are but a single raindrop in a cloudless sky. Compared to others, I’m in a full-on hurricane.
But it doesn’t matter what mine are compared to someone else. They are my personal struggles, which I have to deal with.
My relationship with God has sucked.
That’s my own fault.
At every turn, he has been there, patiently waiting for me to reach out and take his hand, but like the stubborn child I’ve always been, I put my arms across my chest and shake my head, saying “no! I can do this myself! You obviously don’t know what you’re doing, because I don’t like it!”
I started a prayer journal a few months ago, something I hadn’t done in ages. I had renewed faith and was determined to “pray without ceasing.” I wrote down the requests that were heavy on my heart, sure that God would begin to do wonders, and I would be in awe, and fall in love with him deeper.
The answers didn’t come fast enough for me. Hard times hit. Even harder times than I had already had.
We lost another baby in November, and I stopped believing that God cared to intervene in my life, because “he never saved my babies.”
The days and months got harder.
We lost Grandfather, the wonderful man who became my own grandfather when I married into the family.
Work, life, bills, sorrow… It all came tumbling down like an avalanche that I could not escape, and I crumbled under the pressure and pain.
Then last night, we watched War Room.
A little old black lady shouted mighty prayers to heaven, interceding for loved ones, praying for generations of people to rise up and claim the power of God!
I tried to stop the tears, but they fell out of my face anyway.
I went to bed, and prayed for God to change my heart and help me be a mighty prayer warrior.
This morning, I found my prayer journal and bible, after a fair amount of searching (if you can’t remember where your bible is, it’s been too long since you read it 😞), and opened up my prayer journal, ready to add to the list, and not be discouraged by the amount of unanswered prayers.
I began to cry as I read the very first request listed in that journal, something that weighed heavily on my heart:
“10/8/15 Grandfather’s salvation”
Grandfather was a private person.
He was also an agnostic.
He knew Jesus at one point in his early life, but something changed his heart and mind, and he no longer loved Jesus, nor followed him.
I never knew much more until his death, because no one probed much, and he never brought it up.
Then he was dying… And my heart was heavy. I had grown to love this man as my own kin, but would I ever see him again? I hated the image of him in eternal suffering. 😞
I prayed for him.
The family prayed for him.
Day and night, intercessions were made on his behalf.
And on December 28, as he lay in bed, ready to pass from this life, questions were raised to him, and it was clear he did not acknowledge the sovereignty of God. How could this be?? Was God simply going to let this man die and spend eternity being punished for his lack of faith? Sure, none of us deserve heaven or forgiveness, but Grandfather was a “good man.” (How human my thinking is. “There is none righteous, no not one.”)
We continued to pray…all day. The family was all together, surrounding him in love and prayer.
The next day, he was closer to death. The end was near.
And… Then he professed his faith, and acknowledged that he would do things “God’s way,” something that such a highly intellectual man rarely says. He had told me he could not believe, because none of it made sense logically or intellectually. I begged him to listen and watch for God to reveal himself to him, and he promised he would listen. He said “I listen good!” And so I pleaded with God to show himself to him, show his awesome and mighty power. And he must have, because that man never said a thing he didn’t mean or believe in his life, and here he was, professing Jesus as his savior.
As he lay in his final moments, he requested “Rock of Ages” to be played on the piano. When it was done, I tearfully asked if I would see him again in heaven, and he looked me square in the eye and said “yes.” I knew at that moment that he believed. I could see the change in his eyes.
That’s the last thing he ever said.
In this last month, pain and sorrow and frustration abounded. I forgot this miracle that God worked. The man who was “too smart to believe in God” saw the face of Jesus, his power, his sovereignty.
And so, I get to update my prayer journal with this wonderful and truly miraculous answer to prayer. And although I may be so feeble that I forget this wondrous act of God, I will keep this prayer journal, and as I pray through it, I will forever be reminded that God DOES answer prayer.
If you are struggling today, let this be an encouragement to you. I have many “unanswered prayers.” But this request took decades to be “answered.” God always answers, and sometimes it’s not an answer we like. I’m not patient, I don’t want to wait. But his timing is best, and I thank God I was able to witness this answer to prayer, and I hope and pray it remains a reminder to me to continue in prayer.
And go watch War Room.
❤️
Heartbreak and Healing 