May 23, 2016
Last week while I was out of town, I received word that a 10-year-old young man for whom I had been praying for more than a year was in his last days, possibly hours, of life. It was a shocking reality. I didn’t want to believe it. I put out prayer requests via any method I could think of, and noticed that many friends in my sphere of influence were doing the same. We were all desperately hoping for a miracle, or at least some Godly comfort, for this young man and his precious family.
Interestingly, I had brought an old journal along with me on my trip because it was only half full and I didn’t have time to go buy a new one. It was somewhat bulky and I had since started other ones, leaving this one unfinished. As I read through the beginning pages, here’s what I found:
June 23, 2015
“Much to pray about this morning. First of all, 9-year-old Josiah has a 9am appointment at Children’s Hospital because he continues to experience double vision and now his left arm is numb. He’s fighting brain cancer. Lord, please. We ask for a miracle in his young body. Please restore him to perfect health. You are still a miracle worker. We look to You for healing and a long, fruitful life.”
Well, it is exactly 13 months later, to the day, and the Lord took Josiah home to heaven last Thursday. Do I understand it? No. Am I happy about it? Absolutely not. Do I still believe that God can do miracles? Yes. I just cannot explain or understand all of His ways.
I will say that I have been amazed thoughout these past 13 months at the strength and faith of Josiah’s parents as they’ve chronicled via Lotsa Helping Hands during this painful journey. I can’t imagine how difficult it was to witness and then share the many phases of his cancer. Please be praying for his family and friends in the coming days.
I share Josiah’s story briefly to challenge us all to remember the brokenhearted who are all around us. Please keep your eyes open and your hands ready for action. There are “many flavors of pain,” as one of my friends so aptly puts it, and countless opportunities for us to make a difference for dear people who are hurting. Pray. Bring food. Be a listening ear. Write a note. Just sit quietly while they mourn. These are just a few suggestions…
I’ll close with a favorite Scripture that I’ve added to one of my photos of a Delaware farm. Undoubtedly you’ll see this promise again and again on a variety of different pictures from me in upcoming blogs…. It’s a truth that I cling to when I just don’t understand, and I need to remember that God is near.