My grandfather was recently diagnosed with a rare kind of skin cancer - the particularly aggressive kind. The kind you can hold out against, but you can’t win. The call where we found out his cancer had spread shot me back to four years ago - sitting in the hospital with my mother-in-law hearing that, outside of divine intervention, her days were numbered, and the number was small.
It’s a strange sort of torture to know your enemy - to know in advance what will cause you to suffer, what will cause you to die. To stare it in the face as it opens its maw to swallow you.
And how do we pray in days like these? Days where the hot breath of suffering pants at our neck, waiting to devour us?
"And [Jesus] withdrew from them about a stone’s throw, and knelt down and prayed saying, ‘Father, if you are willing, remove this cup from me. Nevertheless, not my will, but yours, be done.’ And there appeared to him an angel from heaven, strengthening him. And being in agony he prayed more earnestly…” - Luke 23:41-44
How often we forget that in Scripture Jesus is referred to as a “man of sorrows, and aquainted with grief” (Isaiah 53:3). That he saw his demise coming from a mile away - and on the cusp of it’s arrival he prayed, “Father, if you are willing, remove this cup from me.”
Jesus prayed to be spared from his suffering. Don’t miss this - he prayed that his good and perfect Father would stretch out a hand and remove the source of his agony… and he knew that God was more than able to do so. He lacked no faith in his petition. But he also said these four little words - if you are willing.
If you are willing, God, remove this cup from me. If you are willing.
How many times have I found myself on my knees weeping and saying this same prayer? If you are willing, God, let this cup pass. If you are willing. And friend - let me just say that sometimes he is! There are many beautiful accounts of God’s merciful and miraculous healing and protection. But sometimes, for reasons we cannot comprehend, he allows the cup to come square into our hands.
But in these “nevertheless” moments, when the bitter drink rolls through you and the agony seems unbearable, you are not left to carry it alone. He will send his angels to strengthen you - to hold you up and sustain you even in the unending shadows of death’s darkness.
“Even in the unending shadows of death’s darkness, I am not overcome by fear. Because You are with me in those dark moments, near with Your protection and guidance, I am comforted.” - Psalm 23:4, VOICE
No one knows why some are called through the valley of death early - why some are allowed to linger in its terrifying shadows. But we do know this - the valley ends. And at its exit is a stone rolled away that opens to the Holy Road; to the place where sorrows and sighs scurry back into the night, and no darkness is allowed in. To the place where those who have gone before wait with arms wide open and gifts of joy and gladness.
“There will be a highway called the Holy Road… Only the redeemed will walk on it. The people God has ransomed will come back on this road. They’ll sing as they make their way home to Zion, unfading halos of joy encircling their heads, welcomed home with gifts of joy and gladness as all sorrows and sighs scurry into the night.” (Isaiah 35:8 -10, MSG)
This weekend my mom sang by my grandpa’s bedside as he crossed from the valley to the Holy Road. And her singing became his singing as he made his way home where he was welcomed by a host of Saints who had gone before… including my dad.
And I remember something, here in the mourning: that all along the way - through darkness and shadow and fear and suffering and even unto death itself - he was not alone. And you are not alone. And this darkness is not forever.
“But on the first day of the week, at early dawn, they went to the tomb, taking the spices they had prepared. And they found the stone rolled away from the tomb, but when they went in they did not find the body of the Lord Jesus. While they were perplexed about this, behold, two men stood by them in dazzeling apparal. And as they were frightened and bowed their faces to the ground, the men said to them, ‘why do you seek the living among the dead? He is not here, but has risen.’”