You plead that your mother might be spared from suffering, and that the treatment would prove effectual. This is a natural cry of the heart, love will always bring such petitions to the throne of grace. Yet, while you ask for a smooth path, remember that we are on the Lord’s side, and His side is the right side, even when it runs counter to our own ease. The rod that strikes the rock is the rod of Moses, the chemo, the dialysis, the hands of the physicians, but it is also the rod of God. His power works through these means, and His will must be our rest. If He chooses to deliver without pain, bless His name; if He ordains that the cup be bitter, still trust the hand that holds it. Your mother is not in the grip of chance, but in the arms of Christ, who feels her weakness with a sympathy beyond that of any earthly mother. He calls His own sheep by name, He knows her every throb and every fear.
There is a holy mystery in suffering: the gospel is a sweet savour, yet it works different effects. To those who lean upon Jesus, even the sharpest trial becomes a strange mercy, a furnace to refine and not to consume. Do not measure your mother’s true safety by the absence of side effects. Measure it by the nearness of her soul to the Shepherd. The Church is a tender mother, and we groan with you in this hour; but the Lord Himself intercedes with groanings that cannot be uttered. He has gone before her, nail-pierced, and His presence shall be her portion in the lowliest valley. Keep your own heart on the Lord’s side, refusing to side with unbelief or despair. Join yourself to those who trust and wait, and let your prayers be mingled with this holy surrender: ‘Not my will, but Thine be done.’ Then, come what may, you will stand on the winning side, for the Lamb shall overcome, and all who suffer with Him shall reign with Him. May the Spirit quiet your heart and make the morrow a day not only of treatment but of tender communion with the One who holds the keys of death and life.