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I believe, and so I write of a love so great that it overpowers even the most profound loss. This love, so real that it sustains my most lonesome moments and lights up my darkest truths. Here is a story of Prayer.

Because I love, I pray.

I pray because I am Loved.

I am what some may call a Jesus freak..

I try not to be weird about it. I think for the most part I pull off more Jesus than Freak, but I can’t lead a life of wellness without sharing the possibilities of healing through prayer and my love of my savior, the spirit so holy and my good, good Father.

There was a time in my dreamer’s head that I thought maybe I wanted to be a preacher of sorts. A preacher or a writer. Those are my two secret fantasy jobs. Being a pastor seemed pretty far off and well a writer, that seemed equally far off. From 2014 – 2017 just before my boy died I spent hours a day between my shifts at work studying theology, hermeneutics, prayer, and discipleship. I poured over websites, books and my well-worn bible trying to fill my head, heart and soul with as much wisdom on God, Christianity and life here on Earth and far beyond that I could.

I wanted to teach people about HOPE.

I prayed endlessly for a way to go to school full time without taking away from my kids. I searched for ways to be a pastor online. Not the best way to go but still I yearned to grow any way I could. My friend, Tom, a retired pastor spent time with me sharing his experience of going to seminary in his fifties, even calling into his alma mater looking for ways a mama like me could grow to counsel and teach one day. I asked God if he wanted me to give everything up and find a school far away. I asked him what he wanted of me He was quiet.

In late March 2017, I started the long and extensive process of interviewing for a job working for the pastor of missions at a local church. My dream job. Not the head pastor but a support system with the opportunity to serve others and share my heart for souls all over the world. I thought maybe God had answered my prayers without having to go off to school somewhere far or stay where I was doing nothing significant at all.

A week before my boy died I found out I did not get the job.

I was disappointed. I had hoped for that perfect job sharing my love of Christ with everyone. I asked God Why I didn’t get that job…He was quiet.

I prayed. Then I prayed more.

Then I picked up the Jung personality test sitting on my desk that I had recently completed as one of the stages in the interview process. God handed me a document that gave me courage and strength I did not realize yet what I would soon need it for. I discovered in that report who I was and what exactly I was capable of. INFJ. There was something so freeing seeing myself on paper. It was spot on, that report.

I was different than 99 percent of the world.

INFJs share a unique combination of traits: though soft-spoken, they have firm opinions and will battle tirelessly for an idea they believe. They are decisive and strong-willed, rarely will they use that energy for personal gain. INFJs will act with creativity, imagination, conviction, and sensitivity not to create an advantage, but to create balance. INFJ’s tend to believe that nothing would help the world so much as using love and compassion to soften the hearts of tyrants. The nickname for this personality type is “developer” and “author.”

Those two words…made me free to be.

What I could not see was that the Lord was setting me up for down the road. That test, seeing my strengths written on paper, feedback on my unique traits and embracing my individualism would later give me the courage to move forward.

Then on April 17th, 2017 my son died.

He died from a horrific disease called depression.

He died by suicide.

In the moments just after finding my boy cold and alone on the garage floor. I screamed not a quiet prayer but one of the most heartfelt kind. I prayed for life…..I begged God to bring my boy back. He was quiet.

I wanted to hate this being I called God. I tried to turn from him and run from it all.

Except, I had just spent all of those years, hours a day reading up on what the bible says, and I knew in my heart, the deepest part of my soul that I was not alone, nor was my son. I prayed again. This time I heard the answer loud and clear.

I sat reading my bible early the next morning after my boy was gone. Asking God how I could heal the hurt I was feeling within. How could I possibly carry on when I saw only darkness and pain. I blamed myself and let it all out to God at the moment. I shared my fears of losing more children. I painfully cried out and asked for forgiveness if I had failed my boy in this world.

How could I go on with this shame and guilt of not being enough for my son?

The answer came in the way of words. The book of everything held in my hand offered up the answers written long ago just for this moment.

 “Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous! Do not tremble or be dismayed, for the Lord your God is with you wherever you go.” Joshua 1:9

This passage came up, in the moment I read I knew without a doubt that I had to write loud and clear our story. I had to author a story of light in the darkest of moments. I had to be transparent about our loss to find Hope. I prayed for more insight and clarity.

But I will restore you to health and heal your wounds,’ declares the LORD” ~ Jeremiah 30:17

Why couldn’t my son live?

I knew I needed to study the causes of depression and disease and share my findings with all who would listen.

You may wonder how I could believe in God healing people including my family and self when my son was dead by depression.

You restored me to health and let me live. Surely it was for my benefit that I suffered such anguish. In your love you kept me from the pit of destruction; you have put all my sins behind your back.” ~ Isaiah 38:16-17

I sat on this passage for many hours. Leaning notinto  my understanding and my desires of the way I wanted the world to go but that of the Lord.

I knew my son was in heaven. RESTORED and ALIVE in a way we hear on Earth can’t even imagine.

I prayed and asked for forgiveness.
I prayed and thanked the Lord for taking my boy and restoring him to eternal life without pain and anguish.
I prayed and asked the Lord how I could serve Him through this tragedy.

And once again he answered.

There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens: a time to be born and a time to die, a time to plant and a time to uproot, a time to kill and a time to heal, a time to tear down and a time to build, a time to weep and a time to laugh, a time to mourn and a time to dance, a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them, a time to embrace and a time to refrain from embracing, a time to search and a time to give up, a time to keep and a time to throw away, a time to tear and a time to mend, a time to be silent and a time to speak, a time to love and a time to hate, a time for war and a time for peace.” ~ Ecclesiastes 3:1-8

It was time to say goodbye. Time to forgive, even myself. It was time to share HOPE with others through the love of Jesus Christ.

It was time to write my love and hope in the Lord and a life well lived while here on Earth.

I spent the next six months writing out my Hope in Christ for a life far beyond the one on this earth. My faith fortified those years of studying hard sustained me in my darkest hour. When I wrote, others wrote back. They wrote of their tragedies, their issues, their fears with their children. The endless people who reached out made me realize God had taken a tragedy and turned it to light

.

I could share hope after all.

Through the constant prayer of blessing and petition, I would ask God’s protection upon these souls reaching out.

I had the opportunity to pray for all of those that wrote me in their turmoil and pain. Praying for these people became my mission. My ministry if you will. My list of people I pray for grows each day. I never needed to become a pastor to share hope. I have that opportunity each day.

Letting go of me helped me focus on Praise, a prayer in which we give glory to God because he is God.

I could do this because I could see so clearly through prayer that my son was FREE, His soul was living a life far beyond the goodness we see here on Earth. Seeing that my boys’ story could be one of change for another family struggling with the same. I could so freely give God the Glory he deserved. I knew this because I spent all of that time in Gods word.

Thanksgiving, prayer in which we thank God for all of the blessings he has given us was next on my journey.

I stopped asking “why” I didn’t get what I wanted and focused on what I had. I was Thankful for the time I had with my boy. Thankful for the letter he wrote to me thanking me for being a good and loving mother. Thankful his death ….although so hard for me, brought recognition to a disease others were suffering. Grateful others would listen to our story of learning to be well. Thankful our eyes opened to the knowledge of lack of nutrition, toxins in our day and the inability to manage stress and how they cause disease in our brain and body. Thankful for how to make change even if too late for our boy it’s not too late for so many more. Grateful for the Hope of more, mind, body and soul.

The Bible reveals many forms of prayer. I won’t teach them all here. I won’t pressure you or thump you on the head with my bible I promise. That is an individual choice for all.

What I will say on prayer is that for it to work, you must do it. You must ask if you want to receive. You must trust to hear. Having faith sets you apart. Praying is a start.

If my story does not ignite your desire to pray, then consider the science behind prayer and wellbeing.

• In one National Institutes of Health-funded study, individuals who prayed daily were shown to be 40 percent less likely to have high blood pressure than those without a regular prayer practice. That alone is a reason to pray. Have you ever had to drive with a teenager on a busy expressway? Prayer. It works….I’m still here today.

 

• Research at Dartmouth Medical School found that patients with strong religious beliefs who underwent elective heart surgery were three times more likely to recover than those who were less religious. My heart has been so broken; I will take prayer as a way to heal.

 

• A 2011 study of inner-city youth with asthma by researchers at the University of Cincinnati indicates that those who practiced prayer and meditation experienced fewer and less severe symptoms than those who had not. If this works for asthma what else could prayer work for?

 

• Other studies show that prayer boosts the immune system and helps to lessen the severity and frequency of a wide range of illnesses.

Prayer works.

It is not always answered the way we want in the timeframe we want. However, I know without a doubt that praying will keep you well.

Billy Grahm, a famous and much-loved pastor, says it in an easy to understand way

” Prayer is simply a two-way conversation between you and God.”

What are you thankful for?
What area are you in need of support?
Who do you know who needs more?
Is there an area you have been wrong and need forgiveness?

You don’t need to be complicated. There is no reason to know the bible to pray or have all of the answers to life.

Everyone can start with “Hey God, Are you there?”

I challenge you today to take a few moments to have a conversation that may be the key to your wellness, mind, body, and soul.

Call to me and I will answer
Jeremiah 3:33