When we learn someone is suffering from physical ailments or emotional pains, we hope for comfort and healing. Often those around us offer their thoughts, prayers, and words of support, but expect some otherworldly source to actual provide it. In fact, I'm ashamed to admit, but I've used the coined phrase "I'm praying for you," but only in the moment did I actually pray. Think for a moment when you've shared such words. Was it the standard response, a nicety if you will? Did you fully intend to pray, but failed to execute beyond saying those words? Did you genuinely spend time with God asking for His healing hand on those suffering.
This week marks another death of someone for whom I cared deeply, my former father-in-law. Regardless of the circumstances causing my divorce, my daughter's dad and I are friendly. I remain up-to-date on the ups and downs of his family as he has of mine. I'm thankful we have a mature relationship like this, if nothing more than to demonstrate to our children how to interact with others by showing God's love even when it's difficult or against human response.
I pray as this family receives an outpouring of condolences and offers of prayer, these words are genuine. I pray prayers of comfort and healing are extended to God with expectation He, in fact, can heal. The loss of a father (in my case, a grandfather who was like my father) doesn't get easier. I visit my grandfather's gravesite twice a year and ball my eyes out nearly six years later. But, with time and through God's loving hands the loss is easier to cope.
This week marks another death of someone for whom I cared deeply, my former father-in-law. Regardless of the circumstances causing my divorce, my daughter's dad and I are friendly. I remain up-to-date on the ups and downs of his family as he has of mine. I'm thankful we have a mature relationship like this, if nothing more than to demonstrate to our children how to interact with others by showing God's love even when it's difficult or against human response.
I pray as this family receives an outpouring of condolences and offers of prayer, these words are genuine. I pray prayers of comfort and healing are extended to God with expectation He, in fact, can heal. The loss of a father (in my case, a grandfather who was like my father) doesn't get easier. I visit my grandfather's gravesite twice a year and ball my eyes out nearly six years later. But, with time and through God's loving hands the loss is easier to cope.
Lord, I pray you wrap your loving arms around this family consumed with grief at the loss of their patriarch. I know he is with you in the kingdom; what great warmth that brings to my heart. But, God, our loss of his presence is still painful. Although we should be celebrating with adoration and joy his physical battles are over and you've called your son home, but our loss of his presence is still painful. Even though without a doubt he is with you enjoying Georgia peach ice cream and sharing his orneriness, without being able to turn to watch him, our loss of his presence is still painful.
So, Father God, my plea is for comfort. Heal our despairing hearts as we mourn the loss of a compassionate, loving man. Dry our countless tears as we celebrate his life, but regret all those who did not get the pleasure of his acquaintance. Lift our bittersweet spirits as we joyously lift him to you, but desire to pull him back for one last smile, one last hug, one last kiss. Strengthen our worn bodies as the dust settles, the grieving overwhelms, and reality sets in. Despite our human grief, I am comforted to know your devoted servant trusted his life to you and ran into your arms when he was finally home.
I love you.
