When The Answer Is No

Choosing To Believe Again

On my way to the hospital, I stopped at the local market for a bouquet of fresh flowers. Nothing could be more cheerful than a spring arrangement of daisies, carnations, and my personal favorite, sunflowers. I’m pretty sure my flowers and I skipped from the cash register to the car. Today was the day. Every fiber of my being believed it. It was time to see with our eyes what we’d been expecting for weeks. Our mother was coming home.

You could say we did everything right. We’d believed when we prayed, guarded our hearts, and studied God’s word. We even posted reminders of scriptures in all the right places. Our pastors, friends, and so many others just knew that Judy would be healed. Even my friend who not only hated and avoided all elevators, but in her condition--her final-month-ready-at-any-moment-kind-of-pregnant—climbed four flights of stairs with her tenacious faith to stand with me. And I brought flowers to celebrate.

I was not in the room when my mother passed. I did not witness the amazing transformation where spirit leaves the body, and death and disease surrender at last. One heart set free in the presence of her Savior; one heart completely broken by abandonment and grief. Twenty-three years was not enough time.

How would I ever get over this?

Flooded with all the questions I’d never asked and conversations we didn’t have, a terrible awareness emerged. I tried avoiding it. I knew it existed, though I hated to admit it. And, if I brought it out, could I ever trust again? I could suppress it no more:

God’s response had been a no.

He did not heal my mother.

He did not answer me.

Why did he do this to me?

Why didn’t my faith work?

Why even pray?

Walking daily through the raw emotions of her absence, I found momentary comfort in pleasant memories and events before her cancer. Though I tried not to, I held on to my grudge against God, especially when it came to healing.

It seems silly to compartmentalize my feelings toward Him. Like, I knew I could go to God for peace. I knew that there would be no surviving this dark season without him. But, somehow, the idea of healing seemed to be marked off in yellow caution tape. Do not enter. This area is off-limits.

For many months, I refused to pray for healing. I was injured, my faith limping along. I cycled through a list of questions and false conclusions: God had favorites. He must heal only certain people. There’s something I need to learn in all this. I guess it just wasn’t his will. (Do any of these sound familiar?) All of these were false statements—lies. Lies that had to go!

This reminds me of the movie, “The Chronicles of Narnia.” Aslan had explained to Lucy and Susan that there was a “deeper magic” that few knew about. Their hearts were so broken. They all thought his death meant victory for the witch, holding all of Narnia captive. And, this one, this very big, echoing “no” seemed unshakable. I would struggle, as if being held captive, with the topic of healing for some time. I turned completely inward, embracing grief like a badge of honor, a scarlet letter--M for motherless.

Faith for healing had disappeared, or so I thought. I knew there was a treasure, hidden deep within the walls of sadness. Beyond my grief and abandonment, roots of truth ran deep, deeper than the grudge trying to take over. I accepted long ago that God’s word remained true, eternal, and unchanging. I also knew that asking “why” would not resolve much, and I was unlikely to find an answer in this lifetime.

My conclusion had to suffice for the time: When the outcome doesn’t match my expectation, I can STILL trust God’s word to be true.

I offer you, created woman, some light for those dark tunnels. Return to your armor. First on, the helmet of salvation. Your thoughts are the first target. Questioning what you believe may be a scary reality, especially when thoughts are fueled by emotionally charged pessimism or reminders of all the times your faith seemed insufficient. We are protected when we renew our mind with scripture. The WORD becomes our barrier and prescription for the healing we need.

If you find it difficult to pray or read at times, then just press play in your favorite Bible app. “Faith comes by hearing, and hearing by the word of God.” (Romans 10:17) Listen to the WORDS of God being spoken. Most mornings, I find great peace and encouragement just by listening; my only task is to receive. I’m not decoding words or phrases, while trying to read and extract insight for myself. When it “clicks”, the truth, or rhema, of God’s word, brings healing and hope. It’s that YES moment! And, once more, faith begins to rise.

Go ahead and believe again. Imagine your reaction to hear Jesus say, “Daughter, your faith has healed you. Go in peace and be freed from your suffering.” (Mark 5:34)

Reflection

Have you ever found yourself holding a grudge toward God? What did you do to get over it?
Have you resisted praying for what you knew you needed? What happened when you finally prayed for it?
In what area do you need to trade God’s truth for flawed thinking? Write this as a new declaration.

Goals

Choose three scriptures from today’s devotion. Create an alarm on your phone for the same time each day and LISTEN to these verses. Keep notes in your journal describing your progress.

“Trust in the LORD with all your heart, and do not lean on your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge him, and he will make straight your paths. Be not wise in your own eyes; fear the LORD, and turn away from evil. It will be healing to your flesh and refreshment to your bones.”

(Proverbs 3:5-8 ESV)

“And faith comes by hearing and hearing by the Word of God.”

(Romans 10:17 NKJV)

“…and his sheep follow him, for they know his voice. A stranger they will not follow, but they will flee from him for they do not know the voice of strangers.”

(John 10:4-5 ESV)