We stood over his bed and prayed fervently.
We prayed intensely for healing, just as we'd done over so many in the
hospital a couple of days prior. The same refrain that has come from
countless groups
I've been a part of that have interceded for healing played, as whispered petitions filled the quaint dwelling we found ourselves in. Once again, as has seemingly always been the case when I pray for diseased and bed-ridden people, we left a man lying in his bed, not yet healed.
It was our third week in Honduras, and the team I was visiting for the week, was in the midst of the final week of ministry of their second month. We'd joined the pastor and doctor for a house visit to see... let's call him, Alejandro. Alejandro was a skeleton with skin to the naked eye. He laid in his bed, emaciated, a blanket covering his diapered mid-section and homemade colonic bag, which appeared to be not much more than a plastic baggy held on with scotch tape. It's fair to say he wasn't in great shape, and yet he still found the ability to smile.
After the group prayed, all but three of us went outside.
Our task? ...to help roll him over and lift him as his bed sheets and diaper were changed, and as his wounds were cleaned.
Ya see...when a body lies still in one place for a while, it starts to develop sores. Alejandro was no exception.
After laying in his bed for a long stretch, his sores were presumably worse than at any other time in the 10 years since he'd fallen and lost all movement below the waist. In that time his legs had become intensely dry, the skin was cracking, and he'd developed some pretty intense sores in some pretty delicate places.
I found myself overcome by the intense smells, but I had to put myself in my place.
I was here for 20 minutes and could walk away.
This man and his family had been dealing with the smell and far worse for 10 years. I couldn't be a pansy about this. How selfish was it of me to even internally complain about something so minor?
We helped him be cleaned, and spoke with him in the process to make it as un-awkward as possible.
He said he believed he could be healed and we prayed again for healing. This time, even in the manner that Jesus did where we told him to take up his mat and walk...and yet...nothing, at least not visibly.
He'd mentioned earlier that he had not birth papers. Near the end, I mustered a joke about everyday possibly being his birthday, which meant he could tell everyone to treat him nice every day because,
"Hey, today might be my birthday." He seemed to love it and laughed. I enjoyed the opportunity to bring what is allegedly "the best medicine," but, nonetheless, as we walked out that day, the fact remained...Alejandro did not.
This is not the first time in my life I've been torn by a prayer for healing not being answered.
I've often thought it potentially selfish of me, which is why I even pray that people be healed after I leave, and I have hope that some of those prayers have since been answered.
But it's tough to understand.
It's a tough metaphorical pill to swallow.
But ultimately, while we are not called to faithless prayers, we are simply called to make our prayers and petitions known. We are told that the Lord will hear them and meet our need, but we are not told to pray because of the "effectiveness" of our prayers.
Our faithful and expectant prayers, especially when made in the face of seemingly insurmountable odds, and all the "let-downs" of the past are ultimately glorifying to our God, even if we, and/or those we intercede for never find the hoped-for-fruit of our requests.
Is it still tough walking away from a broken person, who is still broken after my prayer?
...Without a doubt...
...but it's eased by the faith that the Lord is faithful and just to answer our requests, and that it's not my duty to fix someone. Although His methods and timing might not always give me the warm-fuzzies, it's quite frankly not about me, or you, or even the one(s) we are praying for.
Our prayers are an act of trusting obedience, not something to measure a return on investment. What if we had the faith to actually believe that even our prayers could be about something more than the dividends it brings us or those we care about?
Now THAT's the kind of faith that can move mountains, but far too often, the mountain to be moved is looking back at me in the mirror.
So...
Because I want those lame to walk...
...those blind to see...
...those dead to live...
...those lost to be found...
...and so much more...
I need more trips to the mirror accompanied with prayers like, "Jesus... please give me some mustard seeds today...amen!"
I've been a part of that have interceded for healing played, as whispered petitions filled the quaint dwelling we found ourselves in. Once again, as has seemingly always been the case when I pray for diseased and bed-ridden people, we left a man lying in his bed, not yet healed.
It was our third week in Honduras, and the team I was visiting for the week, was in the midst of the final week of ministry of their second month. We'd joined the pastor and doctor for a house visit to see... let's call him, Alejandro. Alejandro was a skeleton with skin to the naked eye. He laid in his bed, emaciated, a blanket covering his diapered mid-section and homemade colonic bag, which appeared to be not much more than a plastic baggy held on with scotch tape. It's fair to say he wasn't in great shape, and yet he still found the ability to smile.
After the group prayed, all but three of us went outside.
Our task? ...to help roll him over and lift him as his bed sheets and diaper were changed, and as his wounds were cleaned.
Ya see...when a body lies still in one place for a while, it starts to develop sores. Alejandro was no exception.
After laying in his bed for a long stretch, his sores were presumably worse than at any other time in the 10 years since he'd fallen and lost all movement below the waist. In that time his legs had become intensely dry, the skin was cracking, and he'd developed some pretty intense sores in some pretty delicate places.
I found myself overcome by the intense smells, but I had to put myself in my place.
I was here for 20 minutes and could walk away.
This man and his family had been dealing with the smell and far worse for 10 years. I couldn't be a pansy about this. How selfish was it of me to even internally complain about something so minor?
We helped him be cleaned, and spoke with him in the process to make it as un-awkward as possible.
He said he believed he could be healed and we prayed again for healing. This time, even in the manner that Jesus did where we told him to take up his mat and walk...and yet...nothing, at least not visibly.
He'd mentioned earlier that he had not birth papers. Near the end, I mustered a joke about everyday possibly being his birthday, which meant he could tell everyone to treat him nice every day because,
"Hey, today might be my birthday." He seemed to love it and laughed. I enjoyed the opportunity to bring what is allegedly "the best medicine," but, nonetheless, as we walked out that day, the fact remained...Alejandro did not.
This is not the first time in my life I've been torn by a prayer for healing not being answered.
I've often thought it potentially selfish of me, which is why I even pray that people be healed after I leave, and I have hope that some of those prayers have since been answered.
But it's tough to understand.
It's a tough metaphorical pill to swallow.
But ultimately, while we are not called to faithless prayers, we are simply called to make our prayers and petitions known. We are told that the Lord will hear them and meet our need, but we are not told to pray because of the "effectiveness" of our prayers.
Our faithful and expectant prayers, especially when made in the face of seemingly insurmountable odds, and all the "let-downs" of the past are ultimately glorifying to our God, even if we, and/or those we intercede for never find the hoped-for-fruit of our requests.
Is it still tough walking away from a broken person, who is still broken after my prayer?
...Without a doubt...
...but it's eased by the faith that the Lord is faithful and just to answer our requests, and that it's not my duty to fix someone. Although His methods and timing might not always give me the warm-fuzzies, it's quite frankly not about me, or you, or even the one(s) we are praying for.
Our prayers are an act of trusting obedience, not something to measure a return on investment. What if we had the faith to actually believe that even our prayers could be about something more than the dividends it brings us or those we care about?
Now THAT's the kind of faith that can move mountains, but far too often, the mountain to be moved is looking back at me in the mirror.
So...
Because I want those lame to walk...
...those blind to see...
...those dead to live...
...those lost to be found...
...and so much more...
I need more trips to the mirror accompanied with prayers like, "Jesus... please give me some mustard seeds today...amen!"
