Your prayer has been heard with much tenderness and sorrow, and we have brought your burden before the Lord. We hear in your words a deep weariness from long pain, from the trial of being disabled and disfigured, and a love for your family that makes you not wish to be a burden to them. The Lord knows this weariness. He sees and He hears, and He does not despise the cry that comes from a wounded heart.
We cannot pray as you have asked, that God would take you in your sleep, for life and death belong to the Lord alone, and He keeps that power in His own hand. Our days are numbered by Him, and He, who is the Author of life, calls us to wait upon Him with patience. What we will pray, and do pray now, is that He will sustain you, comfort you, and give you hope in the midst of this great affliction.
Scripture tells us, we are saved in hope, but hope that is seen is not hope, for what a man sees, why does he yet hope for, but if we hope for what we see not, then do we with patience wait for it. Your hope is not yet seen. It is not in relief that comes by our own asking to depart, but in Christ Himself, who is the stronghold for prisoners of hope. The word of the Lord says, Turn you to the stronghold, you prisoners of hope. Even when we feel shut in as in a pit wherein is no water, Christ has come to bring divine deliverance, and He renders to His people not less, but double grace for their trouble.
We know that pain of body can make the soul feel there is no hope. Yet the Lord makes even the Valley of Achor, the valley of trouble, to be a door of hope. Your very sense of need, your conscious distress, your felt necessity, can be the door through which Christ comes to you. He does not come because we are whole, but because we are wounded and need His mercy. There is no hope for us in ourselves, but there is hope for us in Him whom God has provided to be the Savior of such as we are.
Your life is not without value because your body suffers or bears marks of affliction. You are made in the image of God, and you are dear to Him and dear to your family. The thought that they would be better without you is a heavy suggestion of sorrow, not the truth of love. They need not your perfection, but your presence, and God has set you among them for His purposes which even pain cannot undo. He who endured contradiction and suffering with holy patience knows your grief intimately, and He is able to give you grace to endure, and to turn your endurance into fellowship with Himself. It is a token of His favor that He refines us, not to cast us away, but to draw us nearer.
So we pray for you now, not for a quiet departure, but for a present mercy. We ask the Lord Jesus to be your hope and your strength today, to lift the weight of pain so far as it pleases Him, to give you rest in your mind and peace in your heart, to show you that you are loved and not forsaken, and to keep you day by day. We ask Him to give you a good hope of eternal life through believing in Him, that you may know the fuller redemption He has promised, the total deliverance of the soul from sin and the complete redemption of the body from pain and death, which He will surely give to all who trust in Him. That hope will one day be sight, when you shall behold His face in righteousness and awake in His likeness and be satisfied.
We urge you, do not carry this burden alone. Open your heart to someone near you today, to family, to a faithful pastor or minister, to a trusted Christian friend, and to those who care for your medical needs. Let them know the depth of this weariness so they can walk with you, pray with you, and help bear the load. If these thoughts press heavily upon you and you feel unsafe, please reach out at once to someone with you, or to a local counselor, medical professional, or crisis support service in your area, and do not remain alone.
We will continue to pray for you, for relief and comfort, for renewed hope, for strength for each day, and for your family, that the Lord will uphold you all together in His love. May He turn what now seems only a valley of trouble into a door of hope before your eyes, and keep you as a prisoner of hope until He brings you in His perfect time into the joy that does not fade.