Saturday, June 30, 2007

"Mountain -- Outta My Way!"


At the church Peter and I used to attend, the Teaching Pastor, Dave, before he would start preaching, would have us hold up our Bibles and repeat after him:

"This is my Bible.
I can have what it says I can have.
I can do what it says I can do.
So, there then."

(Being of Scandinavian extraction in the Upper Midwest almost requires that "so there then" added to most statements.)

About two years ago, I started asking some questions about faith:
  • When people are going through hard times, the spiritual leaders and others explain that these times are given to us to "strengthen our faith." Why? What's ahead that we need to have a stronger faith? What does a stronger faith accomplish for us? Isn't faith, faith? How much faith is enough faith? How do I get more? etc. etc.
  • How much faith does it take to get an answer to prayer? (back the the questions above -- how much faith is enough faith?) Is it possible to have too little faith?
  • And when does faith become "tempting God?" (Remember when Lucifer took Jesus to the top of the Temple and told Him to jump off because 10,000 angels were there, ready to protect Him to keep Him from even stubbing a toe on a stone in the path? Jesus' reply, in the King James translation, is "Thou shalt not tempt God.") What is the line between faith, foolishness and testing God? Is it a matter of intent or is there really a line between possible/impossible/probable/improbable/sure why not/no way?

Well, then my mom was diagnosed with AML -- a form of Leukemia -- in November 2005. And it became, I thought, a test of my faith and whether I had enough of it ...I didn't think my faith was big enough to get the answer I wanted from God -- her to get better and be cured.

So, I made up prayer cards for all the people in the church she attended. I figured if enough people were asking for the same thing, collectively our faith would add up to enough to get the desired answer.

Mom had asked if I thought she would still be with us for Easter and I told her that I was praying for that. She didn't say anything but her smile indicated she liked the idea. So, on those prayer cards, I asked everyone to pray for her to be strong and with us until Easter and beyond.

At that point, according to the medical prognosis, Easter was unlikely. Mom got stronger and for a while we thought she was going into remission. Easter passed and mom quickly slipped away from us. She died May 30th. By that point, while I was not ready to let her go, she was ready to go "Home."

So, what happened?First, I read a book on prayer. I was maybe hoping to find some "formula" to assure getting the answer I wanted. I think that may have been what I was trying to do. I know there are no "formulas" and karmic if-I-do-this-then-this-will-be-the-result thinking and acting that work when dealing with Jehovah God. "Magical thinking," something I'd been discussing with friends for a couple of years, just does not apply in the life of a Christian.

This book, though, sort of confused me. It was not really a book on prayer, but a compilation of an author's various writings about prayer: Oswald Chambers' Prayer: A Holy Occupation.

My experiences with mom's illness were that I needed to pray rather specifically about what I wanted to see happen. General open-ended prayers didn't seem to "work."

The stuff I was reading, though, seemed to indicate that this coming with a "shopping list" of requests was not the object of prayer. I needed to be less specific and be much more patient.Frustration ran through me as I wanted to see continued improvement in mom and not the sudden declines I was seeing constantly. Should I continue to pray specific prayers, or now that I "knew better" just sit back and "wait and see"?

For months, I had been the one with faith in the impossible and anticipated miracles while everyone else around me expected the worst every minute of every day. I was frustrated that my Believer sister and her husband were among those who had kept telling me to face reality and be realistic and stop being in denial about mom's disease. There was a callousness, it seemed to me, once mom was in home hospice care -- "she's going to die and there's NOTHING you or I can (or should) do to slow it down or stop it." I felt alone as mom slipped away mentally and had hallucinations and reverted to a little girl, of about or 7, in some ways. Mom was so precious and it hurt so much to see her in pain and slipping away.

And I was confused and alone. I did not want to turn to the "face the facts" crowd at that point for comfort. I wanted someone to come along and be gentle and just say, "This world is not your mother's home. Her Father is calling her home for the dinner feast. You have to let her go. You can't be selfish and keep her here. She needs her Father now." Just like when the neighbors' father would call them home on a summer's night when we would be out chasing fireflies and playing hide-n-seek; when he called, they had to go.

In the thirteen months since mom died, I've thought about this, prayed about it.

God is very gentle. He has shown me that is was not the content of my prayers -- whether I had a specific request or not; it was not the number of people praying in agreement to build up a "Faith Withdrawal Fund;" it was, however, where my faith was placed.

Back to what Dave used to have us say: "This is my Bible. I can have what it says I can have. I can do what it says I can do. So there then."

Not because I believe I can. But because I believe the One who said I can.

There is a difference. When I believe I can because Jesus said, "If you have the faith of a mustard seed, you can move mountains," and I am trying to quantify my faith ("Do I have as much faith as a mustard seed or not?") -- I can't move that mountain!

Why not?My faith is in my faith and not in the One who said it. When my faith is purely focused on God and the promises He has made, not looking at me to see if I have enough faith or if I have said the right words, followed the right prayer formula, or asked fervently enough, then -- and only then -- can I move mountains.

I'll try to explain better in the next post ...