Flipping through my journal, found this entry from July 20, '08. Mom was in chemo and had been diagnosed with small-cell lung cancer the month before. We didn't really know what would happen, and, frankly, the prognosis didn't look good. This is what I wrote:
Today, up in the choir loft while we were singing, I had my eyes closed, praying. Sandee was standing beside me. Suddenly I felt her hand pressing into my back and I heard her praying. I had to focus on blocking out what was going on around us, had to not worry how I looked and if anybody noticed and wondered what we were praying about. The truth is, I didn't know. Then she placed her other hand on my stomach and kept praying, crying...
Sandee told me later that God told her to touch my back — right there — and pray. She argued with Him but it was clear — DO IT. She thinks maybe it had to do with my mom. Mom goes in Tuesday for new scans and gets the results Thursday. Maybe God healed her — erased new growth, or progressed the amount of healing from the chemo, or something. Maybe He healed her; maybe He took care of some immediate pain or problem. I don't know. But how sweet of Him to use Sandee — and allow me to be a part of it — since I seem to be having such a hard time really praying right now.
I write this down tonight in the hope that I will someday look back at this and know this was a time of healing. Maybe complete, maybe partial. I don't care. I just want to see evidence of God in here, in this. I want to find hope and moments of rejoicing. I want to glory in the gracious, merciful healing powers of our Lord. I want my mommy to be OK.
A year later, I rejoice in Mom's continued health. God is so good. I'm so thankful that He urges me to write things down so I can look back later and know without a doubt what I was thining, what I prayed, and see the many miracles He brings into my life. They're there; we just don't always notice them.