A strange and fearful turn, is it not? On Thursday, she was as she has always been to you. On Friday, you carried her through those hospital doors. And now, only five days later, the physicians speak in low tones and your own family is ready to let go. The ground has fallen away beneath your feet, and you are standing alone with a certainty in your bones that this is not the end. I understand that feeling. It is not stubbornness. It is not the refusal to face facts. It is the echo of something deeper, the cry of love that knows its own, the insistence of hope that will not be silenced while the breath of life still stirs.
I want you to see your prayer for her not as a last, desperate gamble, but as the very work of heaven itself. You have asked others to pray. That is no small thing. When the Apostle Paul was pressed beyond measure, facing danger from enemies and doubts from friends, he did not stand alone in his own strength. He wrote to the humblest believers in Rome, people whose names we scarcely know, and he pleaded with them to strive together with him in prayer. He knew that the strength he needed would come, in no small part, through the cries of ordinary saints lifting their voices on his behalf. You are doing the same: you are gathering hearts to plead for a life. Do not think this is helplessness. This is the hidden engine-room of all true deliverance. When human skill has reached its limit, the prayer of faith takes over the case and carries it into the hands of the Almighty.
And do you know who it is you are calling upon? You are not praying to a distant, indifferent force. You are praying to the God who is All-Sufficient. When Abram was old, his body as good as dead, and Sarah’s womb long past the time of life, the Lord came to him and simply said, “I am God Almighty.” That was enough. All the deadness of nature, all the impossibility, all the years of waiting, all swallowed up in that one name. The Lord did not say, “I have a plan that might work.” He said, “I am sufficient.” He is sufficient in power to accomplish what He purposes. Sufficient in wisdom when the path is a labyrinth to us. Sufficient in love, so that He will never abandon the work of His own hands because His heart is too small or His pity too shallow. Your friend, lying in that bed with failing organs, is not beyond the reach of that sufficiency. The doctors may say the machinery is stopping. But the God who first set the heart to beating and taught the lungs to breathe can speak the word of restoration as easily as He spoke the word of creation. With Him, five days or five decades make no difference at all.
There is something else I must gently press upon your soul. You have said your family is giving up. You feel the terrible weight of being the only one who still hopes. That is a lonely place. But let me ask you this: Where does life come from? Is it something we guard, or is it something we receive? The whole of the spiritual life begins and continues by receiving. The earth does not manufacture the rain; it drinks it in. The empty vessel does not fill itself; it is held under the flowing stream. So it is with every breath your friend draws. Her life is not ultimately in the hands of the physicians, nor in the vote of the family, nor even in the strength of her own constitution. It is a gift, moment by moment, from the hand of Christ. And the beautiful thing about a gift is that the Giver can give it again. He can give it anew, even when it seems to have ebbed to the last drop. So do not let the atmosphere of surrender in that hospital room smother your faith. You are not required to marshal the consent of others before you can hope in God. You are only required to look to Jesus Christ, who holds the keys of death. He can open a door that every human hand is trying to shut.
I know the fear that whispers, “It has only been five days and already they want to stop. What if I am wrong? What if my prayers are just empty noise?” Cast that thought away. Prayer is no empty noise. The same Lord who works through the skill of the surgeon also works through the cry of the supplicant. He hears you. He binds up the broken in heart. He heals their wounds. He is the Beloved Physician who walks the wards when no human doctor can do anything more. Physical organs do not fail without His notice, and they do not revive without His power. Cry to Him. Ask Him to lay His restoring hand upon her, upon every failing part, and to do what the world will call a miracle, but which is, for Him, simply a day’s work.
And while you pray, remember this: you are not praying to a reluctant Judge but to a loving Father. If a son asks his father for bread, will he give him a stone? Your heavenly Father knows how to give good gifts. Trust Him with this precious life. The feeling in your bones that it is not her time may be more than just a human hope; it may be the stirring of a faith that reaches beyond what the eye can see. Hold fast to that. Let it drive you to your knees. And let the peace of Christ, which passes all understanding, keep your heart steady in the storm.
Let us bow together now.
Lord Jesus, we bring this beloved woman before You. You see her. You know every hidden part of her frame. You made her, and You redeemed her. In Your hand is the power of life. We ask You now, in the face of all human expectation, to speak the word of restoration. Rebuke the failure that is creeping over her organs. Sustain her. Raise her up. And hold this dear friend who waits and prays, steady his soul, strengthen his faith, and let hope burn bright in him, for You are the God who delights to show mercy. We ask this in Your mighty name, Jesus. 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. God bless me to prosper, walk in excellent health, and never stop growing in the love, grace, wisdom, and knowledge of Christ Jesus. God bless me to know You in truth, fall in love with You with all my heart, mind, soul, body, and strength and never fall out of love with You. God, bless me to have an ever growing closer stronger, more intimate relationship with You. Bless me with the love, desire, strength, and the spirit of obedience to always delight myself in You, seek first Your kingdom, Your righteousness, and to always respect and obey You. Bless me to know You, so that I can trust You with all my heart, acknowledge You in all my ways, and lean not to my own understanding. Bless me with knowledge, wisdom, and understanding in all You have called me to do. 
be-an-encourager.blogspot.com
