Sharing Time: “Thank You”
- Published on Tuesday, 24 January 2012 13:44
- Category: Features
Reva Lachica Moore
My friend, Bill Waterhouse, is sharing this story....
I was visiting my brother and sister-in-law and their 11-year-old son, Jason, who had aplastic anemia. What is this alien name? It is a blood disorder in which the body’s bone marrow doesn’t make enough blood cells and eventually causes death if not corrected. A bone marrow transplant is a potential cure for severe aplastic anemia.
Jason had been diagnosed with this disorder since the age of 9 and was 12 at the time of my visit. Having been through many treatments and heart-wrenching tsunamis of trials, Jason and his parents continued in prayerful faith. They cried rivers of tears as they prayed face down in humbleness, pleading with God to spare their only child.
Young Jason knew exactly what was going on in his body. He knew what all the blood counts should be and was monitoring them daily. Rolling his intravenous infusion pole with him one morning, Jason stepped inside a room of doctors having a meeting. Without any hesitation, Jason sat down, opened his data folder and asked for the results of his blood tests. All the doctors listened to this brilliant and helpless, young patient.
One day I asked Jason’s parents if we could have prayer for Jason. Soon, all 4 of us, including Jason, knelt down to pray. Jason's parents, an uncle and I prayed our individual prayers. We poured our hearts out in love to God for Jason. We articulated, carefully choosing words as if it were our own blood we were striving to save. Which genetically, it was. We wanted to ask perfectly so our prayers would be favorably answered. The words were so heartfelt that - how could God NOT answer them? Our prayers were seemingly pure that subconsciously we were dictating to God what He needed to do. How dare He not heal this child? We felt so good as we said, “Amen.”
Then we started to stand, believing that God heard our prayers.
We had not quite stood up when Jason asked, “Wait, can I pray too?”
I was embarrassed and humbled, feeling we had just earned such favor in God. We knelt back down and Jason started to pray, “Dear Lord, I don’t want to ask You for anything. I just want to say “Thank You”!
Jason already knew what needed to be said in two words - an answer to what the end result was to be. He accepted and welcomed Jesus’ will for his life. His awesome two-word statement completely shattered our reasoning and stopped us in our tracks.
In Luke 22:42-43, Jesus had asked His Father in heaven to take this "cup" from Him but that His Father's will be done and not His. Yes Jesus was 100% God and 100% human. Jesus could not use His divinity, only His Father's. Being human, Jesus needed strength that humanity didn’t possess, so the Father sent an angel to strengthen the human Jesus. This had to be the Father's will for a human doesn’t possess such strength.
I believe this happened to our young man, Jason.
I had often wondered what was Jason’s relationship with Jesus. I never should have worried for Jesus had been answering our prayers all along and Jason’s communion with the Master had just been revealed as stated. It has taken me time to get to know Jesus the way He revealed Himself in this young man, Jason, whom we all loved so deeply.
In spite of all the disappointments, bad news, disgruntled human speculation of anger towards God’s rejections as we perceived them, Jason had already accepted and grown above it all. His was the victory that was before our eyes but clouded in anxious feelings and kept from our view. We were too involved in our own emotions, attempting to earn Jason’s healing through our own adult way for was he not just a boy?
Ohhh what a Jesus man this child was.
I say was because Jason lost his human battle with aplastic anemia but was victorious in Jesus and was thankful.
My prayer is that our relationship with Jesus be as vivid and acceptable to each of us as Jason’s was to him. All I can hope for is the ability to say "Thank You" to God before my life ends here on earth.