For a friend...

Dear Lord,

I’m praying for Andrew. I’ll keep it short—I don’t know details, I don’t know much about his condition—but here’s what I know, and what I want to say for now.

You made it pretty clear to Job we’re not qualified to ask for explanations, go to a Court of Appeal, or say, “If I were in charge, I’d have...”

But seriously. Your servant, Lord, has spent less than 2 decades in this life—less than I have, and certainly had a long future ahead of him—serving You, worshipping with his brothers and sisters, growing to be the salt and light of the world as You call those who follow You to be. Is this the destiny You have for him, Father? I sure hope not...

You may know what happened, but I don’t and the cell hasn’t told me yet. The details are sketchy, the future uncertain (for those of us yet to find it out), the operations dicey. I hear the chances are 50-50, and I’ve just felt my hp vibrate again. Another update. I’m going to take it, and when I finish... anyway, Lord, it’s a balance that can go either way. Remind us, Father in heaven, that You hold the entire darned scale in Your hands.

And I ask You to tip it our way.

The way of Andrew’s recovery. The way of hope. The way of someday.

Someday, your servant looking back on this day as the dawn of another chance, not the end but the beginning of the rest of his life. For You are good, O Lord, and in Your presence is correction and righteousness and fullness of joy.

That’s why the language is from my heart, as fervently as I can type this on a shaky lecture-desk in NUS, (for now) minus editing, minus polish. A little irreverent... but Lord, as long as it’s You correcting me, You healing our brother, and Your hand guiding us as we go along—that’s more than enough.

These paragraphs may be disjointed, they may ramble, they may not have the urgency or lyrical beauty of Job haranguing with his friends. But Father, let these prayers form a request—a request that Your healing power come upon Andrew, body and soul, brain and mind. For if anyone can help, if anyone can comfort and heal at this point in time, it is You alone.

Guide him that he not lose heart, not lose sight of you, and remember you are behind him in the battle for life. Have his brain cells heal, the swelling fade, his blood replenish, his heart beat for You once more... as You have done before and will do again.

Guide his family in their time of uncertainty and anguish—that brothers and sisters in You can come alongside them and carry their burden. Guide them that they not lose sight of You as the One who loves, touches and heals, an everlasting help in time of trouble... if I might presume to bring to mind one of the psalms in Your Word.

[Of course, 75% of the psalms are complaints and lamentations. So maybe we’re not so alone after all.]

I don’t know the depths of their pain and uncertainty over the future, and I pray I never will... but Your healing hand and size ever bigger than our problems are needed more than ever before.

Guide the doctors and surgeons, who labour daily to monitor and bring Your power to heal into his body. May their hands move under Your will, their minds focused and sharpened, the saving complete so we and they may rejoice together one day.

And guide us, Andrew’s family in Your service, on what to do to bring Your light to them. May Your direction be clear, Your orders followed, Your name praised in all we do. Apart from You, O Lord, we have nothing.

In short...

HEAVENLY FATHER, PLEASE, PLEASE HEAL OUR BROTHER. Amen.