It’s the final week of our “I’m Waiting God” series! Today, we’re tackling the question that we don’t like to think about. However, I hope this devotion inspires you and gives you hope that God's love for you and His promises are bigger than the answer to your prayers.
Here’s our tough question: What if we finally receive the answer to our prayer, but God's answer is different from what we’ve prayed?
My family is living this right now.
If you read my note at the end of last Monday’s devotion, I asked for prayers for my Aunt Mary Jo. At the time, I had no idea that I would be holding my aunt’s hand as she left her earthly body before the end of the day. Just after 10pm, my seventy-year old aunt drew her last breath on earth and joined Jesus in eternity.
Mary Jo spent more than half of her life praying for God to heal her body. In her late 20s, Mary Jo experienced a sudden onset of lupus, an autoimmune disorder where her immune system attacks healthy tissues. The initial attack was devastating and took Mary a long time to get back on her feet. But she did!
In her late 30s, Mary went back to school to earn a business degree, and we celebrated when she graduated. This felt like a triumph for Mary Jo because she felt like her lupus diagnosis sidelined her while her friends were getting married and having children. Earning her degree felt like one way to reclaim some of her lost dreams. (In high school, Mary Jo was offered a full music scholarship to Ohio State, but she stayed home to care for my grandmother, who’d struggled with chronic illness after a difficult divorce.)
In her early 40s, Mary began having difficulty with her breathing. Test results revealed that she had developed pulmonary hypertension, where the lung arteries develop high blood pressure, and the blood doesn’t flow easily. As a result, the right side of the heart strains and can lead to heart failure. She required supplemental oxygen support and complicated medicines. One day, Mary went in for a medical procedure and woke up with a catheter attached to her chest to deliver life-sustaining medicine every day.
Mary came to visit me shortly after, and she was despondent. She didn’t understand why God allowed her to develop two terrible medical conditions. She’d done her best to live for Jesus, and she felt like God had forgotten her. Mary didn't abandon her faith, but she was confused and angry for a season. It felt like her body was broken. She battled medical anxiety that felt like Damocles’ sword hanging over her head.
My aunt grew up in the church, but told me that it wasn't until her 30s that she understood what it meant to live for Jesus. She abandoned flimsy religious rules for real faith and a commitment to live for Jesus, even when she felt afraid. Mary never went back on her commitment to Christ even though she lamented her pain, loss of health, and multiple near-death experiences over the past thirty years.
Mary and I talked about her frustration with well-meaning people at church or even on the street who would see her oxygen tanks and proclaim that God was going to heal her body. She never stopped believing that God could heal her body with a single word. At the same time, she felt disappointment and anger at people who would attempt to prophecy without asking about her specific situation or how her illnesses deepened her faith.
She knew that many Christians were uncomfortable with her lack of healing, but Mary wasn’t uncomfortable at all. She may have struggled with being sick, but Mary Jo believed God was good regardless of whether He healed her. She longed for others to see that as well. In fact, here is Mary Jo’s last Facebook post, just 23 hours before her passing.