The Power of Thoughts and Prayers
/My father has been doing missions for practically my whole life. Though our congregation has been historically small in number, we’ve sacrificed to spread the gospel around the world. He’s been to the Philippines after a string of terrorist attacks, deep cartel territory in Mexico, and passed by Al-Qaeda camps in Pakistan. He’s poured his love and time on the reserves in Calgary throughout the years. He’s been to the poorest slums of Kenya and caught malaria while in Nigeria. Whether God says go to India or Guatemala, my dad answers that call. If he’s at home or abroad, he’s always available and willing to pray for someone in need.
Well, in 2020, he was in need. The day after the election, my father was admitted into the hospital and diagnosed with Covid-19. Given his age and comorbidities, he was definitely in the danger zone. Like thousands of other Americans, we were not permitted to see our loved ones. We called the hospital for updates frequently and were told constantly conflicting information as they battled with a disease they were trying to figure out. My mother said we were trapped within an episode of House.
My sister, Katrina, and I moved in with my mother, to keep her comfort in that difficult time. We were all concerned, but we’d call my father and it seemed like they were getting ready to release him soon. Suddenly, we weren’t able to reach him. When we got a hold of a nurse and asked why my father wasn’t responding to our phone calls, she claimed he was confused and didn’t know who and where he was.
When my father describes this time back, it reminds me of Alice waking up at the end of the first Resident Evil film. He’d wake up covered in blood from pulling out IVs, not knowing where he was and why he was there. Dad could remember his wife and that he had children, but they were like a faint dream, difficult to access.
There were times when he’d call demanding my brother bust him out of the hospital, and other times, he’d whimper over the phone, “It’s so hard.”
My mother would urge him, “Keith, you have to hold on.” She even promised to go on the mission field with him, something she had never done in nearly 40 years of marriage.
One day, Katrina spoke into the phone, “Dad, everyone is praying for you. People from all around the world, who you’ve helped and ministered to are all praying for you now. People from Kenya, Mexico, and the Indian reservation are messaging us.”
And to this day, even though his mind was severely attacked, he remembered her words and was encouraged to keep fighting. He still had a mission to fulfill.
It was a difficult Thanksgiving without our father home. After heavily pushing back against the hospital’s aggressive recommendation to send my father to a nursing home, we were able to have him home again in December. He had to return to the hospital after blood clots developed, so he missed Christmas as well. But he was in much higher spirits. His arms and legs had severely atrophied. He was bedridden and had to learn how to lift himself up, get out of bed, then walk again.
By May, my dad was back in Mexico (with my mom) ministering to the people.
I do believe in the power of prayer. I do believe in miracles. I’ve seen the supernatural, even the instantaneous and undeniable, in many of these places where my father visited.
But what happened with my dad was a struggle for us all. Not everyone gets an instantaneous breakthrough. The miraculous doesn’t always happen in an instant. The miraculous happened over a lifetime. It was in the seeds my father planted around the world, bearing fruit by producing the much-needed encouragement in a time of need. It was a reminder of how one man’s life and good deeds can touch so many, and how kindness can be repaid, even in this cruel world.
Jesus operated in the miraculous, but he also never promised a life without suffering. On the contrary, he very much told his disciples it was a guarantee and how to prepare for it.
When someone offers thoughts and prayers, some people may just be saying it as a gesture to let you know they’re thinking about you. And people do appreciate empathy. But many other people of all faiths believe prayer is an action, that they’re petitioning God, and their faith can make a difference. Do we always have the luxury of demanding how God will move on our behalf? No. But regardless of your trial or tribulation, you can pray for a peace that passes all understanding (Philippians 4:7).
During a massive and inconceivable tragedy, peace and comfort are needed. The older I get, the more I see this need. We are not promised a life without pain or mourning, especially not as Christians. But we are promised peace. And in moments of grief that seem unbearable, I’ve seen friends and family ground themselves in faith.
“Pray for these families,” Ryan Petty said, in regard to the 21 killed at an elementary school shooting in Uvalde, Texas. “It’s the only thing that got us through that day.” Petty lost his 14-year-old daughter during the Parkland shooting in 2018.
There are many who resent Petty’s experience and his faith. They question what good prayer can do. Well, Ryan became a safety school activist in the wake of the tragedy. Thoughts and prayers are not an excuse to sit on your hands and never come up with constructive solutions. They are the strength to move forward and hope that you’ll see your loved ones again.
You may have no faith. That doesn’t alter the reality of mine. So, I will continue to believe in the power of prayer. I’d rather pray in love than lash out in hate during a time of need.
