Last night I sat on my couch browsing my Facebook feed.  Suddenly, my heart sank as I read that baby Joseph Coleman (Steve and Julie’s grandson and Melanie’s nephew), who was recovering in the hospital from an operation the other day, had been rushed back into emergency surgery after he suddenly crashed.

As I waited for the next update, I saw a post from our long-time friends Corey and Meghan Fitzgerald.  Their daughter Alannah had been bitten on the lip by a dog earlier that day and was having plastic surgery.  My heart sank deeper.  “God,” I pleaded, “how much can this family go through?”  They’ve had such a tough year trying to find a diagnosis for their youngest son Declan.  He’s been through just about every test imaginable.

I sat on the couch.  I waited.  I prayed.  I felt helpless.  Two little children in surgeries.  Two families weighed down with this pain.  I wished I could be somewhere – somewhere more useful.  If only I could be of more help to Joseph’s parents Daniel and Bethany or Alannah’s parents Corey and Meghan.  If only I could do something more than just sit here and…

Pray.

It seems so little.  So cliché.  So passive.  So unhelpful.  “I’ll pray for you.”  Really?  That’s it.  That’s all I can offer?

Sometimes it is.

As Jesus often reminds us, sometimes principles of the Kingdom of Heaven seem opposite to what our world values.  How often do some see a crisis and want to dive in and fix it?  Yet, sometimes we’re faced with the realization that there’s nothing we can do.  Last night I was reminded of something Julie said following all of the uncertainty of the first couple months of her grandson Joseph’s life.  “I didn’t know how to pray any more.  I had to let God pray through me.”  Paul reminds us in Romans 8:26, “In the same way, the Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us through wordless groans.”  We’re so weak, so overwhelmed, that we don’t even have the capability of praying with words.

And that’s okay.

Prayer, even when we don’t have the words, is the posture of humility before God.  It is a reminder to ourselves that there is One who is able to do anything.  It is to be at one place and time and peer into the vast universe seeing the One who is able to be at every place at every time in the past, the present, and the future.  It is admitting that we can truly do nothing apart from the One who can do it all.  Prayer is opening the doors of our heart, mind, soul, and strength and giving the King of kings His throne.  Prayer is not so much inviting God to work, as it is God inviting us to watch Him work.  Prayer is the most powerful tool mankind has because it is rooted in the foundation of the All-Powerful.

Last night, I, like Jesus’ three disciples, fell asleep.  Jesus was still praying.  He was moving mountains.  He was binding the wounds of little Alannah.  He was raising little Joseph back to life.  He was comforting those in the waiting room and those praying in their living room.  Time and space are no obstacles for God.  What was, is, and what will be is perpetually in the hands of the Eternal Great I AM.