Tag Archives: spirituality

Pray for Heidi Day #4: Gospel Fire

Scripture passages from Isaiah 26, Isaiah 42, Isaiah 49

Since Heidi was diagnosed with cancer last Christmas, as her older sister and soulmate, I have existed in many, many different emotional states:

-Deep darkness. You can read about that here.

-Total trust and hope and joy in God.

-Day-to-day ordinariness when I try not to think about it all–just stay in motion, from coffee to work to school pick-up to dinner to reading and writing to bed–because it’s just. Too. Much.

-Intense anxiety, which has manifested itself in a near panic attack, shingles (yep, the rumors are true: they hurt), shortness of breath, eye twitches, removal from social spheres, and an inability to respond to Evites (you heard it here first).

-Supernatural peace.

-Constant crying.

My favorite of these states, to be obvious, is total trust in God. I was there just a few weeks ago. It was a beautiful time. It wasn’t just about peace, but about a gospel fire that for weeks felt like it was literally burning in my chest. I was learning things about the gospel, not just in an intellectual way, but in a holistic way, and I couldn’t shut up about it all. I felt its beauty. I felt the goodness of God. I felt the gorgeous vastness of the things I can’t understand. I was small, and safe, and exposed, and protected, and I absolutely had to tell everyone about it. It was a physical feeling, an emotional state, an awareness. It was sorrow and awe and longing. It was hunger and desire and purpose. I loved feeling that way. There was still lots of crying–but paired with intense worship.

In the path of your judgments,
O Lord, we wait for you;
your name and your renown
are the soul’s desire.

So . . . this is my prayer for Heidi today. God, that you would break through the barriers of physical pain, and depression, and the mental trap of long-term illness that demands all of Heidi’s attention, and ignite Heidi’s heart with gospel fire.

My soul yearns for you in the night,
my spirit within me earnestly seeks you.
For when your judgments are in the earth,
the inhabitants of the world learn righteousness.

Light her up with the beauty of your good news, with the glory of who you are and who we are in you, with the firmness of your promises, with the steadfastness of your grip on your children. That she would find herself worshiping, the horrors of her illness paling as your glory shines brighter and brighter.

And that she would testify. To doctors, nurses, friends, acquaintances, strangers. That she would be so full of your beauty that it would burst forth, because it has to.

Heidi’s purpose in life is to be a light to the nations, God. I’ll never forget when she told me that raising her kids to be lovers of God was not her life purpose. It was too small. She read me this passage:

It is too light a thing that you should be my servant to raise up the tribes of Jacob and to restore the survivors of Israel; I will give you as a light to the nations, that my salvation may reach to the end of the earth.

That verse is Heidi’s life calling.

God, I’ve never known someone with such gospel vision as Heidi. With such a pure desire to spread your good news as far as she could. You know that she lived out this vision with her daily decisions, getting up before 5 in the morning sometimes to meet and read the Bible with a friend, forming prayer groups, leading Bible studies, caring for the real needs of the people around her–giving her time, her money, her energy.

God, Heidi has been such a tremendous witness to you. You know how many people she has ministered to over the years. All the women she’s read the Bible with, met with, prayed with, many of whom are praying for her now.

Don’t let her light go out. Don’t let the illness snuff out this mission that you ignited her heart with. Fan the flame in Heidi and let it ignite so many others . . . more than she can count.

God, I pray very specifically that you would give Heidi someone to minister to now. Bring someone along who is spiritually younger, someone Heidi can mentor and teach, even during this time. Remind Heidi that you’re not done with her yet. Give her a job, and the strength to do it.

I am the Lord, I have called you in righteousness,
I have taken you by the hand and kept you;
I have given you as a covenant to the people,
a light to the nations,
to open the eyes that are blind,
to bring out the prisoners from the dungeon,
from the prison those who sit in darkness.

Let the fruit of Heidi’s sickness be a whole new crop of people who put their trust in you. And let Heidi witness this herself.

The children born in the time of your bereavement
will yet say in your hearing:
“The place is too crowded for me;
make room for me to settle.”
Then you will say in your heart,
Who has borne me these?
I was bereaved and barren,
exiled and put away—
so who has reared these?
I was left all alone—
where then have these come from?”

Put Heidi’s cancer to work for your kingdom, and let it become one more story of her powerful ministry.

Pray for Heidi Day #2: Confirmation of healing

Scripture passages from Judges 6, Judges 7, Isaiah 42, John 14, Isaiah 45

God, you’ve given so many of us signs you’re going to heal Heidi. And yet, instead of getting better, things have gotten worse … and worse. Complication after complication have knocked her down. Nothing has gone smoothly. Medications that were supposed to help her have failed. At first, God, I felt pretty certain I’d heard right–that you were going to heal her. But now, months have gone by. And I’m no longer as sure. Did you speak? Did we make it up? Why are you letting this drag on?

I long for you to speak to Heidi directly about it, especially now, as she’s just been readmitted to the hospital. What is your plan? Is it to heal her like we thought you said? Then tell Heidi.

She longs to hear from you on this, too. Remember when she was mad at you, and was like, “God, how come you’re giving signs to everyone else and not to me?” Remember how she grabbed her Bible and opened it randomly, right to her cornerstone passage of Isaiah 54?

That’s what I want for Heidi. More confirmations, like rain on thirsty ground.

I’m asking not for one, or two, but as many as it takes for Heidi’s heart to be strengthened and assured. Let them be clear signs that you are going to heal her, if we’ve heard right and that really is your plan. God, we’re fallible. We deceive ourselves. That’s my biggest fear–that we’ve played mind games with ourselves–that you haven’t spoken after all–that Heidi will die and all these so-called signs were just foolishness. Confirm your word to Heidi.

I feel nervous typing this. I can hear an argumentative voice saying, Aren’t you being awfully bold, Jenna? Enough is enough. You’ve gotten your signs? How dare you pray for more?

But I reject that voice. Do we ever tell a child, “How dare you ask your dad that?” No. Maybe their request is silly. Or wrong. Misguided, or selfish. But it is never a question of how dare you ask. God, you tell me to come bringing my needs. This feels like a need.

Then Gideon said to God, “In order to see whether you will deliver Israel by my hand, as you have said, I am going to lay a fleece of wool on the threshing floor; if there is dew on the fleece alone, and it is dry on all the ground, then I shall know that you will deliver Israel by my hand, as you have said.” And it was so.

Can you blame us, God, for craving this from you? Is it that shocking that we’re desperate to hear from you again and again? We’re weak and forgetful. The impact of things fades so quickly. The signs that at the time seemed marvelous now seem like they happened a lifetime ago.

Make them fresh in our hearts again. And speak new things.

And now I have told you this before it occurs, so that when it does occur, you may believe.

Tell us. Tell us again, clearly, tell us afresh.

I am the Lord, and there is no other.
I did not speak in secret,
in a land of darkness;
I did not say to the offspring of Jacob,
“Seek me in chaos.”
I the Lord speak the truth,
I declare what is right.

I don’t want to be whiny and needy and weak. But . . . I am needy. I have zero power, and zero control–but I have a Father with all the power and all the control. Don’t be mad at me for coming to you like this.

Then Gideon said to God, “Do not let your anger burn against me, let me speak one more time; let me, please, make trial with the fleece just once more; let it be dry only on the fleece, and on all the ground let there be dew.” And God did so that night.

You gave Gideon two clear signs. But even after that, when it came time for the battle, he was scared–and you knew it. So you gave him yet another sign–one that he didn’t even have to ask for. You knew his heart; you knew what he needed; you gave it.

That same night the Lord said to him, “Get up, attack the camp; for I have given it into your hand.  But if you fear to attack, go down to the camp with your servant Purah; and you shall hear what they say, and afterward your hands shall be strengthened to attack the camp.”

See our fear, like Gideon’s? That the battle you promised to give us in victory might end up being a loss after all? Give us assurance. Give Heidi assurance. And while you’re at it, give it to Mike, and to my parents, and to his parents. Do I sound greedy? But I’m greedy for you, God–and for you to show up and make yourself heard to Heidi, and to anyone who hasn’t heard from you on this yet.

You alone know how to speak to each one of us. You alone know what it takes to make your voice heard to each one of us, through the noise of life and the doubts in our heads and the busyness that stops up our ears. So whatever way that is for Heidi, break through and let her hear you. Speak to her directly. Tell her about your plan–your specific plan for this cancer that’s devouring her body.

See, the former things have come to pass, and new things I now declare;
before they spring forth, I tell you of them.

Tell us before it happens, so that we can glorify you even more.

God, Heidi looks at her kids and mourns. She’s facing a future where they may not grow up with a mom. She can’t look at her kids without this terrible sorrow washing over her. Are you going to heal her? Is she going to be able to raise her own kids, like her heart desires so intensely? Speak to her.

Don’t be silent. I know at times you are. I know you can use time of silence to grow our faith. But please, break the silence. Speak. Let Heidi hear you. Let her know she is precious to you, and let her in on the plan.