Prayer
I’m sorry.
I wrote to you. I informed you – but I’ve not updated you.
Please forgive me.
So many of you are concerned. So many are praying. And so many have written and expressed support and encouragement. Thank you – and we’re fine.
Lyric was diagnosed with a sub-areola abyss: It’s not cancerous.
We’re now scheduled for an ultrasound. After that, we’ll see a breast doctor.
So again, thank you. And bless you. I love you each, and adore God for sending you into my life. I know you care. I know you prayed. And God has answered those prayers.
Speaking of prayer… Today’s Monday Morning Inspiration covers just that.
I prayed over my child.
She fell in my arms crying, and I prayed over her when we found the lump.
I spoke the word. I called out scripture, and I took my stand against this attack.
Later, I prayed with friends.
We prayed for strength. We prayed for God’s will. We prayed for the doctors – that their hands would be steady, that they would use sound judgment and wisdom, that the very best would see Lyric.
Well, that didn’t happen.
We got a resident instead of the doctor.
She was nice. She was kind. But she didn’t quite know what she was doing. And that caused Lyric excruciating pain.
First off, my baby hates needles, but she can endure them. Not this one.
It was long, thick, steel and attached to a gun-like instrument. She shot it into Lyric’s breast – and missed the lump. Still, she poked and prodded and pushed and pulled trying to hit it. All the while, Lyric squirmed and screamed and begged for it to be over.
It wasn’t.
Because she missed it the first time, she had to do it again.
And Lyric squirmed and screamed and begged for it to stop.
It didn’t.
She came out with nothing again – mind you, coming out dry was a bad sign. We’d already been told that if liquid came out, it probably wasn’t cancerous and just a fluid filled sac. So, now I’m tripping – cause nothing came out.
Then, the actual doctor comes in.
She’s quick, efficient and gets right to work – sticking lyric again.
She draws fluid immediately, and I’m relieved.
Still, she has to do it again.
And Lyric is still squirming, in pain and questioning if they had to do it again.
Finally – after four tries – it’s over.
What happened to my prayer?
For wisdom?
For the best doctor?
Why did Lyric endure the first two, painful intrusion at the hands of student. Her mistakes hurt Lyric, and I wondered why we had to be subjected to this.
Well, I don’t know.
But I do know God is sovereign. More so than that, I trust him as Sovereign Lord. (Deut. 3:24)
That means He can do what He wills, when He wills, How he wills to whom He will. He’s God.
Does the suffering means He’s unjust? No.
Unkind? No.
It means He’s God, and he knows the plans He has for us: thoughts of good, thoughts to prosper us and not harm us.
I trust that, and in this case, I believe he was allowing my faith to be stretched just a little bit further. He was allowing me to grow up some more in Him.
See, when Lyric was going through, I prayed over her some more.
Despite the doctors, I prayed scripture and the word. When Lyric couldn’t bare it any more – not even squeezing down on my hand was helping – I told her to start quoting scripture. She did.
“Surely goodness and mercy follow me all the days of my life,” she quoted. (Psalms 23:6.)
It’s a line she added to her prayers years ago.
Without my prompting. Without my leading. She added this.
And it was this word she meditated on as she endured this pain.
Sometimes, my friends, we’re going to be stretched.
Sometimes, my friends, we’re going to have to be stretched and allow it to be so.
Not fight against it. Not whine. Not complain.
Just trust God, bless it to be so, go through and keep believing.
Don’t quit. Don’t give in. And go through.
God is still God. He’s still on His thrown. He still loves you, and He’s not looking at Jesus talking about, “Oh Lawd, what we’s gone do now?”
No.
He’s God.
And He’s already worked it out.
He’s just stretching us, Growing us up.
Despite what it looks like in the beginning. Despite what it feels like at first.
Keep praying. Keep believing. Keep expecting.
Keep trusting that “God WILL NEVER give you more than you can bear. He’s faithful and He’ll always make a way out for you so that you CAN bear it.” (1 Cor. 10:13)
I learned a long time ago that if it’s happening to me – right now, this second – it’s because I can handle it. Right now. This second.
We didn’t find the limp in Lyric’s breast a day before or even an hour before because we couldn’t handle it then. God allowed it to be so, He blessed us to endure and He allowed us to grow in the process.
He’s good like that.
And I love him.
So, I said this to say, Hold on.
It’s going to be OK if you hold out, go through and keep on trusting God.
Know that I love you each, L.
I wrote to you. I informed you – but I’ve not updated you.
Please forgive me.
So many of you are concerned. So many are praying. And so many have written and expressed support and encouragement. Thank you – and we’re fine.
Lyric was diagnosed with a sub-areola abyss: It’s not cancerous.
We’re now scheduled for an ultrasound. After that, we’ll see a breast doctor.
So again, thank you. And bless you. I love you each, and adore God for sending you into my life. I know you care. I know you prayed. And God has answered those prayers.
Speaking of prayer… Today’s Monday Morning Inspiration covers just that.
I prayed over my child.
She fell in my arms crying, and I prayed over her when we found the lump.
I spoke the word. I called out scripture, and I took my stand against this attack.
Later, I prayed with friends.
We prayed for strength. We prayed for God’s will. We prayed for the doctors – that their hands would be steady, that they would use sound judgment and wisdom, that the very best would see Lyric.
Well, that didn’t happen.
We got a resident instead of the doctor.
She was nice. She was kind. But she didn’t quite know what she was doing. And that caused Lyric excruciating pain.
First off, my baby hates needles, but she can endure them. Not this one.
It was long, thick, steel and attached to a gun-like instrument. She shot it into Lyric’s breast – and missed the lump. Still, she poked and prodded and pushed and pulled trying to hit it. All the while, Lyric squirmed and screamed and begged for it to be over.
It wasn’t.
Because she missed it the first time, she had to do it again.
And Lyric squirmed and screamed and begged for it to stop.
It didn’t.
She came out with nothing again – mind you, coming out dry was a bad sign. We’d already been told that if liquid came out, it probably wasn’t cancerous and just a fluid filled sac. So, now I’m tripping – cause nothing came out.
Then, the actual doctor comes in.
She’s quick, efficient and gets right to work – sticking lyric again.
She draws fluid immediately, and I’m relieved.
Still, she has to do it again.
And Lyric is still squirming, in pain and questioning if they had to do it again.
Finally – after four tries – it’s over.
What happened to my prayer?
For wisdom?
For the best doctor?
Why did Lyric endure the first two, painful intrusion at the hands of student. Her mistakes hurt Lyric, and I wondered why we had to be subjected to this.
Well, I don’t know.
But I do know God is sovereign. More so than that, I trust him as Sovereign Lord. (Deut. 3:24)
That means He can do what He wills, when He wills, How he wills to whom He will. He’s God.
Does the suffering means He’s unjust? No.
Unkind? No.
It means He’s God, and he knows the plans He has for us: thoughts of good, thoughts to prosper us and not harm us.
I trust that, and in this case, I believe he was allowing my faith to be stretched just a little bit further. He was allowing me to grow up some more in Him.
See, when Lyric was going through, I prayed over her some more.
Despite the doctors, I prayed scripture and the word. When Lyric couldn’t bare it any more – not even squeezing down on my hand was helping – I told her to start quoting scripture. She did.
“Surely goodness and mercy follow me all the days of my life,” she quoted. (Psalms 23:6.)
It’s a line she added to her prayers years ago.
Without my prompting. Without my leading. She added this.
And it was this word she meditated on as she endured this pain.
Sometimes, my friends, we’re going to be stretched.
Sometimes, my friends, we’re going to have to be stretched and allow it to be so.
Not fight against it. Not whine. Not complain.
Just trust God, bless it to be so, go through and keep believing.
Don’t quit. Don’t give in. And go through.
God is still God. He’s still on His thrown. He still loves you, and He’s not looking at Jesus talking about, “Oh Lawd, what we’s gone do now?”
No.
He’s God.
And He’s already worked it out.
He’s just stretching us, Growing us up.
Despite what it looks like in the beginning. Despite what it feels like at first.
Keep praying. Keep believing. Keep expecting.
Keep trusting that “God WILL NEVER give you more than you can bear. He’s faithful and He’ll always make a way out for you so that you CAN bear it.” (1 Cor. 10:13)
I learned a long time ago that if it’s happening to me – right now, this second – it’s because I can handle it. Right now. This second.
We didn’t find the limp in Lyric’s breast a day before or even an hour before because we couldn’t handle it then. God allowed it to be so, He blessed us to endure and He allowed us to grow in the process.
He’s good like that.
And I love him.
So, I said this to say, Hold on.
It’s going to be OK if you hold out, go through and keep on trusting God.
Know that I love you each, L.
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