My dear soul, when the weight presses heavy and the same prayers keep rising day after day without an answer you can yet see, it is easy to think the Lord has turned His face aside. But look again at your poor mother, and look too at the bundle of debts that seem to mount higher every month. You have been crying out in the name of Jesus, and that name is never spoken in vain. He who notes every tear has not forgotten the sick room nor the empty purse.
Your mother’s liver is ailing, that hard-working, silent part of her frame that does its labor without thanks until it falls into trouble. And yet the body’s fabric is of small account compared with the love that binds you to her. You fear for her, and that fear itself is a prayer. The Great Physician never turned away a single soul who came to Him with a sick friend. When the paralyzed man was let down through the roof, our Lord looked first at the faith of the bearers before He spoke healing to the palsied limbs. You are that bearer now, lowering your mother before Him on the cords of your own earnest cries. Do not think He disregards such holy importunity.
The power of Christ in the gospel is mainly a power to heal. He did not come brandishing a sword but carrying balm. The very same hands that were stretched upon the tree are stretched out still toward every form of human misery, toward a fatty liver as readily as toward a fevered brain. He knows the grade, He knows the prognosis, He knows the years you want her to live. And it may please Him to restore that organ to its proper function, quietly and without spectacle, so that one morning she rises with an appetite she thought she had lost forever, and you both wonder at the mercy that asked no fanfare. Even now the healing leaves are growing on the Tree of Life, and not one of them shall wither before its appointed hour.
Then there is the matter of the monthly credit, the sum that stares at you from the page, the lack of work, the anxious doing of sums in the night watches. I would not belittle that trial for a moment. It is a genuine sorrow to be pinched and pressed and see no human means of escape. But remember that the things which are seen are shadows; the things invisible are the only substances. The Lord is not bankrupt, and His treasury knows no depletion. He can turn the captivity of His children when they pray, not only for themselves, but for others. Job’s restoration came when he prayed for his friends. You have been praying for your mother; now let that unselfish prayer be the token of returning day for your own household as well. The Father’s hand is in the darkness, and it is a full hand.
You miss your father, and that grief leaves a hollow place in every calculation. When the earthly pillar is removed, the whole building seems to sway. But Christ is the same yesterday, today, and forever, and He is husband to the widow and father to the fatherless. He has not left you as orphans. He walks the house with you still, and He keeps the accounts that terrify you. Lay the figures before Him plainly. He is not offended by your frankness about the bills. The widow with the handful of meal and the cruse of oil found that the barrel did not waste, not because she had a grand income, but because the God of Elijah had commanded the supply. He can command yours too, in ways you have not yet imagined.
And as for your mother’s long life and your shared future together, the Lord who numbers the hairs of your head holds all your times in His hand. Her days are written in His book, and they are days of purpose. The adversary may desire to sift you both, but Christ has prayed for you that your faith fail not. He who told Peter that he would be sifted also prayed him through the sieve, and not a grain of true wheat was lost. So shall it be with you and your dear mother. The future may look fragile as a cobweb in the morning dew, but it is held fast by One who never let a single one of His own be plucked from His hand.
Fix your eyes not on the changing scenes, the variable health report, the shifting bank balance, the fickle favor of circumstance, but on the unchanging Christ. He is the same Lord who walked the waves to reach His frightened disciples; He can walk on the waters of your troubles and speak a great calm. The storm is not a sign of His absence but the very platform for His coming.
Pray on, dear heart. Pray in the kitchen, pray by her bedside, pray over the bills, pray in the quiet of the night when no one hears but heaven. Intercession has ever been the mark of the saints, and it shall be to you the bow in the cloud, the promise that the flood is receding and the dry land of deliverance is near.
Let us lift our souls together:
Lord Jesus, You who are the Beloved Physician of every aching body and every anxious mind, look now upon this dear mother. Lay Your healing hand upon her liver and make that organ whole and strong to serve her many years yet. Quiet the inflammation, restore the proper function, and give her back the vigor that seems to have ebbed away. Grant her long life in Your fear, and let this daughter know the sweetness of many more seasons with the mother she so tenderly loves.
And You who feed the ravens and clothe the lilies, undertake for their finances. Open a door of provision that no man can shut. Supply what is lacking, cancel what is crushing, and give them the daily bread that comes from Your own hand. Steady their hearts as they wait; let not fear be their master, for You are their Father.
Guide them each moment, shelter them under Your wings, and lead them in the way everlasting. To You, O Lamb upon the throne, be all the praise, now and forever. Amen.
Prayer Focus: God, Thank You for loving me. Thank You for loving me, Jesus. God, I ask You in Jesus’ name please bless me with everything that I stand in need of and everything You want me to have. 
