Desperation. Agony. Fear. I can only imagine the darkness and cold, biting wind that swept over the garden some two thousand years ago. A man took three of his closest friends out of the city up to a mountaintop garden. He knew the charges and accusations that were being made against him. He knew the spite and scorn of his adversaries. He also knew his fate…a deadly one at that. This man was not fleeing from the inevitable, however. He was retreating to a peaceful place to have some final moments of solitude before his accusers gathered together. If I were this man, I would have run. I am not brave, nor am I a warrior. In the face of adversity, I cower. I am afraid. I feel weak.
This man was not. He asked his friends to keep watch for him and he went off by himself to pray. That is hard for me to wrap my head around. This man had Rome’s finest soldiers after him, most likely with a death warrant, and he falls to his knees in prayer. As a little girl, when I was told this story, it was not hard for me to comprehend. It simply made sense and I did not question this man’s actions. Now, though, I have a much harder time wrapping my head around this. For the past three months, I have felt as if I am in my own Gethsemane. I feel the fear, desperation, and agony swirling around in my head as if I were the one standing in the face of danger. On the day my brother went missing and was found in the woods, I felt as if I was standing in Gethsemane. I felt the heaviness of sin, pain, and suffering. Like the man in the garden, I prayed. I prayed with every fearful breath. However, our prayers were much, much different.
His prayer was this
“‘Abba, Father,’ he cried out, ‘everything is possible for you. Please take this cup of suffering away from me. Yet I want your will to be done, not mine.'”
My prayer was not for the Father’s will to be done. I prayed for my brother to be okay. I knew down in the depths of my heart that whatever the outcome, he would be okay, but my prayer was that he would be okay with me. Like the man in the garden, I wanted the suffering to go away. I wanted to be spared the inevitable pain and emptiness. But I hardened my heart to the possibility of God answering my prayer in a different way.
This has been the hardest pain I have ever faced. Every day, I relive the reality of the fact that my brother is no longer with me, but with our Father. The pain has eaten away at my very core and some things are far from easy. Prayer is one of those things. I wish it could be different, but this is my cup. This is what has been laid out before me. Yes, I love my Savior. Yes, I trust Him with my life. Yes, I know that my brother is in Heaven and he is okay. But yes…I still struggle.
I struggle with prayer. Most days, I simply don’t have any words to say. I start off with “Dear Jesus,” and my voice trails off. I want to pray and open my heart, but I am at a loss for words. I’ve been battling with this for some weeks now and just recently, two things have popped into my mind. A professor of mine told me at the beginning of the semester that when you have no words to say, sometimes “Have Mercy” are two of the most powerful words you can utter. Have mercy. And He does.
The second thing is this verse:
“And the Holy Spirit helps us in our weakness. For example, we don’t know what God wants us to pray for. But the Holy Spirit prays for us with groanings that cannot be expressed in words.” ~Romans 8:26
God’s Spirit within us groans for us. When we have no words, He intercedes. When our pain makes it impossible to think clearly, He’s one step ahead of us. This doesn’t mean that we should simply stop trying and think He will do that every day for the rest of our lives. No. We keep trying. I know that someday, the words will come again. I know that God will help me up in my weakness and that He hears the groanings of my heart.
No matter the circumstances. No matter the fear. No matter the pain. We should always pray like the man in the garden. Oh, and by the way, if you didn’t already know, that man’s name was Jesus. God in human flesh. He could have easily escaped from the anguish ahead of Him or demanded there be another way, but instead, He asked for His Father’s will to be done. His love was so great for us, that He faced Gethsemane, torture, and death…all for us. That is why we never stop praying and having hope. Our great Interceder went through it all before and look at Him now. He’s sitting at the right hand of God, waiting for us to come home to Him forever.
Love Sees You 