Dear StandFirm Friends,
One of the things that has struck me over the past five years is how much trouble and suffering “everyday people” endure—and how little we know of it. All of us know that people in impoverished countries that do not have democracy or the rule of law or who are in war-time conditions inevitably undergo intense suffering. And we are often convicted rightly to pray for them and try to help in some way.
But . . . all around us there people struggling in a whirlpool of swirling troubles and suffering. One of the things that seared my heart early on in 2004 was my email conversation with a woman—a stranger to me—who left her parish in the Diocese of Upper South Carolina while at the same time suffering from a grave and ultimately terminal illness. I still have her final email to me from a hospital bed—she died days later.
It was five years ago that I received it and wept uncontrollably. I have never shared that email with anyone, but I consider it a sacred and treasured gift.
In the midst of her illness—she had lost not merely her parish, but her diocese, her priest, her fellow parishioners, her bishop, and the entire Episcopal Church due to the actions of General Convention 2003—she had lost her heritage. She struggled with where she could attend church in her final weeks. Her concerns, expressed by email to me, and her death was a reminder of the staggering spiritual loss that Episcopalians have undergone in the past five years.
Since then, I’ve been very aware of all of the struggles that people go through, not merely in the constant crisis and bad news of the legislative and official and formal and national and public heresies of The Episcopal Church, but also just of ordinary life. Every day people get sick, lose children, lose jobs, suffer divorces, go bankrupt, and much more—only this time without a reliable and godly and faithful church to help them through it.
That’s my background to this unusual request and exercise in intercessory prayer.
Recently I was engaged in some email conversation with a friend of StandFirm. We have never met. Yet we have chatted off and on [and often “off” since I get submerged for weeks under email and work] for a little less than two years.
In one email from this January he said something—a few idle sentences. He’s a funny guy, and I laughed at one phrase of it [you’ll see].
“Other than that, a bad, bad time for me healthwise and moneywise. I try to keep my chins up but sometimes it is very difficult. I’m pretty close to being homeless although the VA says they won’t let that happen. If I get stuck in a room somewhere, what will happen to Duncan? He’s all I have left.”
I asked for further details. And he was good enough to share more about what has been happening in his life over the past several years.
After some long thought, I sent him a response—and I asked for something that I consider to be incredibly risky.
I asked him if I could post his response on StandFirm, taking care to preserve his anonymity [all I’ll say is that he is a traditional Episcopalian in a diocese out West and that he has served in the military], and ask for the prayers of the StandFirm community in dealing with a truly horrible and seemingly intractable set of problems. I explained that I thought it would be a good exercise for us to pray for one another—though most of us are “strangers.” I also explained that I thought such a post might be a helpful encouragement to all the other people out there—and you know who you are—who are going through some incredibly rough times, either financially or with health or with family or with loss or with serious depression . . . and on and on it goes.
To my surprise and amazement, he agreed to this. It is a brave agreement, in my opinion.
I’m not much of a praying person, to be honest. I am thoughtful, analytical, emotional, and I love Jesus Christ as best as I am able and with whatever love that He has provided for me to give Him—but contemplative I am simply not. I have struggled all of my life with prayer.
But a lot of you folks—you are clearly talented and gifted at prayer. You work at it and have a discipline of it.
So I would like to run this exercise in intercessory prayer.
I don’t know if Edward will read this post. He doesn’t hang out at blogs.
And he doesn’t need any pity, that’s for sure. He’s got a rich and incredible life story—and in one sense, he’ll make do, as I suppose we all will.
But Edward has agreed to be prayed for by this blog community, and I hope that you will do so.
I’m going to post his original email to me explaining the challenges he is working through below. I thought about keeping comments closed—but thought better of it and will be happy to know via comments if anyone is willing to take Edward’s challenges on as a praying project.
I can’t even promise that Edward will agree to an update. And I certainly don’t know that things will “improve” for Edward either.
But here goes.
The Response From Edward
Aw, I just had the sorries in the middle of the night.
Truth is the last 9 years, everything has fallen apart. I’ve never been rich and have never cared about it but have always held my own. At the end of [year], my wife was struck with degenerative bone disease which, over a period of a couple of years, turned her hips and lower spine to dust. Osteoporosis of a particularly virulent nature. She lived in great pain and died in [year] of an accidental overdose of prescription pain killers. We had been married two weeks short of 40 years.A lot of me died with her.
I was always the zealot, the Don Quixote, Crusader Rabbit, whatever. She was the rock. My anchor. The business person, the keeper of the wampum. It was [my wife] who earned me a Legion of Merit when she [insert incredible anecdote here]. The miniature of the medal is buried with her ashes at [my parish]. (There’s probably a TV movie in there somewhere.)
I’ve drifted from failure to failure. Couldn’t keep a business going. Health gone to hell. Gained over 100 lbs.
Cursed God. Found Him again. Started to recover. Lost my health insurance. Lost my house and car. Stopped my pills, everything turned terrible in the last 6 months.
Can’t concentrate. Can’t keep clients happy. Can hardly walk at times. Can’t sleep. Trying to live on Social Security and $175/mo from [a part-time government] job. Can’t do that. Falling behind on rent. Daughter has cut me out of her life. As I said, it’s only [a beloved dog] and me now.
Still have something to give. Not ready for the scrap heap.New insurance won’t pay for the drug that keeps me mobile. Tried a substitute and ended up in the ER the other day. Need to get stable. Need to find a place I can afford. Need to find a job I can do.
Other than that, everything’s great.
32 Comments •
Lifting him and his situations in prayer to the Lord, praying for healing (physical and psychological), for work, and for God’s miracles in his life.
[1] Posted by Johng on 02-09-2009 at 07:34 AM • top