I have never been one to pray on my knees really. I have watched my grandmother do it all her life, and I always thought it was a beautiful sight. But for me, I just seem to pray wherever I am, standing up while holding my youngest son before I put him in his crib, sitting on the edge of my oldest son’s bed or laying down at night. I know God hears me regardless. And yet, there is power in being on our knees. Maybe it’s because of the symbolism of submitting to God when we bow down in that way, I don’t know. I know the Bible speaks of it, but I admit I do not know enough verses by memory to quote one for you about it.
But I can tell you nothing sent me to that position faster in my life than hearing a doctor tell me my mother’s chance of survival seemed to be a 50/50. If I am being transparent, it’s not even that I chose to be on my knees, it was probably more of a crumbling.
And it was also not just to pray, in my weakness, but also to question. Why now? After moving more than 10 times in 13 years, we had JUST gotten back close to the family again. Yet, less than a month from the time we settled into our new home 2 hours away, my mom was diagnosed with cancer and died within a 24-hour period. Was I doubting God just a little? You bet. You see it was fine with me when God moved us all over this country for so many years because we found what would be the natural treatment for mom’s cancer on our 11th move, so I felt like it was all worth it. High five to God.
I could give God the glory when His plans eventually aligned with mine, and I was happy with the ending to this nomadic journey He took us on. But this turn of events, in my humble opinion, was absolutely unacceptable. Why would He bring me back just to watch my mother die?
Crumbled. In a heap outside the hospital, I sat. And I ranted at the injustice of it all. I do not claim to instantly be fine with the difficult turns our lives have taken just because of my faith. But I do claim to get THROUGH them because of it.
After a period of time, I stubbornly raised from my heap, a desperate child of God longing for His comfort. I needed power from a place that I didn’t have. Where would I get that from? My knees. So I shifted into the position of spiritual fortitude to pray. The most difficult part of that day was that I knew I had to pray in His will, which was brutal for me. Praying, “Lord, if it be in your will, please heal my mother” may be the most gut-wrenching words I have ever spoken. Because I knew after that, there was nothing more I could do. It left my control and went straight to the only one who knew what the outcome would be.
Although I still felt broken from the thought of losing her, and knew this would be the longest and hardest day of my life, I grew in strength from the moment I rose FROM MY KNEES.
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