It Comes Down To God
In the year King Uzziah died, I saw the Lord.
-- Isaiah 6:1a
Sometimes it takes a shocking event to shatter our notion that trouble belongs to someone else. We somehow assume that bad things, horrible tragedies, belong in someone else’s story. Not ours. Never ours.
A friend started her day caring for her elderly mother and stepfather. Her stepfather was admitted to the hospital. She asked for prayer for this man who cares so for her mother. A few hours later she stood vigil beside her own husband.
Sudden changes. A heart attack. Severe damage. Emergency surgery. “It doesn’t look good,” she said, as she asked for prayer. The doctors aren’t optimistic. The next 48 hours are critical. And on and on.
Where do you turn when the doctors have done all they can? When you’re staring death in the eye -- whether your own or that of someone you love -- there is only One who can offer comfort, strength and healing. God. That’s what it comes down to. You and God.
Strange that it always seems to take something so traumatic, so life changing, to make that clear. Some people think I’m crazy when I tell them things don’t matter. I wasn’t always that way. A phone call. Grief that lingers even after all these years. Priorities change. You change.
We pray. God can do anything, heal anyone. We cling to hope because so long as there is breath, there is hope. And when hope is gone we remember the promise. His promise. The separation will only be for a short time. Eternity shines ahead of us, past the darkness of fear and grief.
As I write these words, this dear man clings to life. I pray for a miracle. For God’s healing touch. That He will show Himself to this family who loves Him so. No matter what the coming days bring.
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