Prayer, Psalms and Suffering

Lisa (Lewis) Dahl is one of my oldest and dearest childhood friends. We grew up together in Minnesota and have shared many life stages together, from both near and far. My heart is breaking today for her and her husband, Nate, due to the latest updates they just received on the progression of cancer in their sweet daughter, Anna. Yesterday, after rounds of chemo, surgery attempts, and all kinds of other interventions, the doctors found new cancer growth in Anna and enlarged cancer at a primary site. Dehibilitating news for their friends and family; I can’t even imagine how it is impacting Lisa and Nate. 

Their website has actively shared medical news and recounted their amazing, persevering faith since she was diagnosed with stage 4 neuroblastoma in February. Visit their site for more information and so that you can pray for them this day. Pray for Anna’s healing and care, for strength and support for Lisa and Nate, and for God’s presence to be real for their whole family during this frustrating, scary time.       

In their latest web update containing this horrific medical news, Nate begins with a (famous) cry to God asking why He is forsaking them, and ends with Psalms 22:1-27. Today, as is the case so many days in my life, the personal and subjective meets the theological and rational: in a few hours, I am lecturing in class on the topic of Psalms and how prayer, suffering, and faithfulness work themselves out in the prayers of the Israelites. A little ironic. 

I’ve decided that for today’s class, I will begin by reading Psalm 22 and giving a short summary of its context in the lives of Nate, Lisa, and Anna. I know many students have also suffered illness, death, loss of hope, etc. – maybe opening up the space to lament, to mourn and weep, to cry out in anger, to show anguish, and to truly be vulnerable with the all-powerful God of the universe is something we can all understand better today. Because God is big enough for our anger. God hears our cries and meets us most significantly in our pain and weakness, so the cross tells us. God understands even our frustration at Him; the Psalms are nothing if not honest, raw, and emotional. And God has a special concern for the suffering, telling his Church to care for them as well.  

I don’t know why God hasn’t chosen to heal Anna (yet?). I don’t know why the brokenness and pain of living on this side of the kingdom can seem too much to bear. But I know who God is. God does not leave us, ever. God gives us community, peace, wisdom, rest, and guidance when we desperately need it. God always provides a way out, even from the most dehibilitating news. God meets us in our pain and anguish with a love to heal us, at least over time.

I pray today that the true speech of who God is in our lives can enter into the deep reality of suffering in the Dahl family – and in the lives of many others suffering, struggling, or feeling alone. I pray that this truth does not seem simplistic or like a forced easy answer to a problem that still eats away at us, but that it opens a space in our hearts where the truth can seep into the vulnerable places of pain and soothe the dry cracks. I pray that God’s presence can provide some measure of rest for the weary, lost, hurting, and afraid today. I pray that we in the body of Christ may help enflesh that peace in our own cries, our own vulnerability, and in reaching out in love to each other. Amen.