I am reminded this week that not all answers to my prayers
are the ones I asked for. It seems
recently I am told “No” in response to many of my requests. So many in fact, it is disheartening. My daughter asked me for prayers on Thursday
for her father-in-law. I prayed. But on Friday, she let me know that while her
husband was yet in travel to see his father, he passed away. This hurts.
Bad enough, that he was not healed.
But worse, that this exact same scenario happened with her husband’s
grandfather earlier this year. Requests
for prayer, followed by death while still in transit to see him. My adopted son (son-in-law is a term too
little for how much our family loves him) has lost both his grandfather and
father in the same year, with no good-byes, after requests for prayer which
were given. And there is no way to fix
this, is there? What comfort and love my
daughter now offers her husband will never be more important than it is
today. What comfort he can offer his own
mother, and grandmother (who lost both a husband and a son as well), will also
never be more important than it is today.
Sometimes people think that when prayers are offered by “righteous” men
they will be heard. I guess you can
figure where that puts me on the righteous scale then. But I believe that Jesus hears the broken as
much as He hears those who think themselves whole. Answers however, are not always what we want,
at least seen through the prism of this world’s lens.
But sometimes, where I hear a resounding “no”. That is not actually what God is saying. My “no” is merely God’s “not yet”. I have personal experience with this. Once before a long time ago, I prayed for a
job with a particular division of Lockheed Martin. I did not get it. Answer looked like “no” to me. But then, I was referred to a different
division of Lockheed where I did get not only a job, but with more pay, and
faster career progression than anyone could have imagined. At a time in retrospect, where the division I
originally applied for was laying off employees to the tune of nearly 1/3 of
its work force. So while my friends were
being downsized, I was being promoted, over and over again. Who but God could have opened the one door,
while closing the other. More recently,
I continue to pray for my dog Layla. She
has inoperable cancer, but she still lives.
I do not know for how much longer, but today is a gift, and her lack of
pain today, a greater gift still. I hold
out hope for her cure, but given the losses in our family, it is hard to hope
for a dog, when the people seem not to last.
But my feelings, do not change my history, or today’s gift, or my
continued hope in God’s mercy in the here and now.
I can only imagine the pain of a mother who loses a
son. I have not ever been exposed to
such pain. Worse, if it is her only
son. But this scenario did not originate
with my family this year. Luke writes
about another such woman, who lost her husband, making her a widow. But then tragedy struck again and she lost
her only son. In those days in Israel
this would likely leave her destitute as well.
The story picks up in chapter seven of his gospel letter to Theophilus regarding
what we believe and why. He starts in
verse 11 saying … “And it came to pass the day after, that he went into a city
called Nain; and many of his disciples went with him, and much people. [verse 12]
Now when he came nigh to the gate of the city, behold, there was a dead man
carried out, the only son of his mother, and she was a widow: and much people
of the city was with her.” This was a
sad story. And I am certain this woman
did not lose her husband or her son without praying not to lose them. Who knows if she was able to say goodbye or
if death came and interrupted, like it usually does.
We go about our lives as if we were somehow guaranteed to
have them. But the truth is, our
collective clocks tick on, at some point hitting that annoying buzzer that time
is up. At that moment, it does not
matter if we were in a plane on the way to say goodbye. We fell short. It does not matter what was in our hearts for
that person, the love we wanted to express.
They will no longer hear it. At
least not now. The pain of this widow
was shared by the town she lived in. They
stood by her in the funeral. I hope the
people in the Philippines where Sean’s wounded grandmother resides has the
company of those she has gone to minister to, with her now in her time of
need. I hope they comfort his mother as
well. I hope his presence there softens
the blow of so hard a loss. But I
understand why weeping is likely to be heard.
And I understand why it is hard to know an answer from God like “no”,
when we know He is capable of miraculous other responses. I would bet this woman of Luke’s day could
equate. But the story continues.
Luke continues in verse 13 saying … “And when the Lord saw
her, he had compassion on her, and said unto her, Weep not.” And here is where I hear the voice of the
Lord in the ears of my family. What we
have perceived as a “no” is only a “not yet”.
We asked for healing. One is
coming. We asked for a lack of
pain. Pain is to be no more. We asked not to die. We are to never experience or fear the shadow
of death ever again. And so our Lord
says to us all, weep not. In 2019, we
lost someone, but at His second coming we will get them back. And we will lose them, nevermore. I am sure Theophilus had some idea of this in
his day, just as you and I understand it in ours. But this story was not a theoretical
one. This was a literal one. Our Lord is not without compassion. And His solution is life.
Luke continues in verse 14 saying … “And he came and touched
the bier: and they that bare him stood still. And he said, Young man, I say
unto thee, Arise. [verse 15] And he that was dead sat up, and began to speak.
And he delivered him to his mother.”
This is prelude. This is the
example story of what His second coming will look like for millions of
people. Jesus did not yank this poor son
out of the bliss of heaven to return him to a world of sin once again. No.
Instead Jesus simply woke this son up from the sleep of death, the same
way Jesus will one day wake us all up from the sleep of death, to be reunited
with our families, and our Lord. This
was kindness to both people, mother and son.
This was a declaration to me and my family that this “no” was really
only a “not yet”. And here is the
prototype for what that coming day will look like once again, only better
still.
The response of the people was somewhat less than I would
have expected., imaging myself in the same situation. Luke continues in verse 16 saying … “And there
came a fear on all: and they glorified God, saying, That a great prophet is
risen up among us; and, That God hath visited his people. [verse 17] And this
rumour of him went forth throughout all Judaea, and throughout all the region
round about.” To return death to life is
something only God can do. Hard for that
widow to imagine Jesus as anything other than God Himself in the form of His
Son. As for the dead son returned to
life, he must have been confused to see this was not the final resurrection, only
a temporary one. Again, the answer was
not “no” it was simply “not yet”. But do
you imagine that returned son had any doubt in his mind what the end of time
would look like once again, only better.
That son had been through it once.
He had tasted the sleep of death and had been awoken from it.
My daughter and my adopted son can take hope in this. Every one of us who looked like we got a
“no”, maybe even a series of “no’s” can take hope in this. I await the day when His compassion delivers
me to my mother and father, my children to me and my wife, and all of us to the
lap of His Father – to know a love we have never been able to fathom. My family here is blessed with those who have
chosen to be a part of it by choice, and so it expands. Our family there will know this same
phenomenon. And every “not yet” will
melt away as Jesus says it is finally time now.
What begins then ends all disappointment. And the love that looks out for us beyond the
scope of this world, will make clear why God’s timeline was different than our
own. And once we see it, we will confess
we would never have chosen otherwise than what God has done for each of us –
even if it looked like “no” in the here and now. In the meantime, I will push my sadness and
grief deeper into His compassion. Like a
two-year-old who has no other place to go than to a Dad whose answer they do
not fully understand. Trusting in His
compassion, and His eternal love. I
yearn for the day when “not yet” turns to “welcome home”.