Question from a reader:
I’m struggling with grief and disbelief. I feel I'm at a crisis point in my faith walk. My brother, who loved Jesus, passed away from cancer. During his treatments, we all prayed and asked God to heal him. We believed we heard from the Lord that he would be healed. The treatments seemed promising, and my brother was a great witness during this time. But in the end, the cancer claimed his life.
I’m totally devastated because of how God told us He would heal my brother. For my whole Christian life, I've listened to and obeyed that same voice that I heard tell me he would be healed. I feel my faith is shattered. Why did God tell us he would be healed? I can't see how He is kind and good if He said things, yet did the opposite.
Answer from Doreen Button, EPM staff:
I help Randy answer reader questions and will attempt to walk with you through your questions in a way that honors both our Father and your grief.
You asked if God changes His mind. There are several instances in Genesis where Moses’ prayers on behalf of Israel turned God’s justice to mercy. Our prayers do make a difference. But I don’t really believe that theological questions and answers are at the heart of your letter.
You have been through so much. Your pain is deep and excruciating, especially because you don’t feel God’s presence. You have two choices: you can trust His written Word that promises He will never leave you (and is, therefore, right where He always is…next to you, listening and loving).
Or you can choose to turn your back on those promises and lean on your feelings instead. Ponder for a moment or a day or a month on what that choice would mean for now and for eternity.
Your brother is healed. Will you rejoice in that and trust that God has kept His promise? Randy writes, “All healing in this world is temporary. Resurrection healing will be permanent. For that our hearts should overflow with praise to our gracious God.”
Of course, that doesn’t take away your pain. Your tears and questions are all normal parts of grief. It can take a year or more for the fog to clear and for those of us who are left behind to start feeling some semblance of a new normal. We never get over it, but we can learn ways to adapt and adjust to life without someone we love dearly. Walking with others who have experienced great loss can be a path to healing. Isolation can harm. Many (including myself) have found comfort and help through GriefShare groups.
We can’t always feel our faith. Sometimes we have to simply sit in the loneliness and the dark and send up the very simple prayer, “Help!” He hears you. He sees you. He loves you. Cling to that and be still. When your brain tries to trap you on the endless treadmill of “why” and “what if,” focus on Scripture instead. Philippians 4:4-9 is a good place to start. Memorize it and meditate on it when you start drifting. Psalm 23 is awesome: “Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, You are with me…” It’s my go-to when the darkness tries to force me back into a dungeon God opened the door to long ago. Read Job, especially the last several chapters where God doesn’t answer Job’s questions but reveals His might and sovereignty. Pray Scripture when you can’t pray any other way—the Psalms are full of lament (cf., Psalms 40-44). God welcomes all our direct interactions with Him.
And give yourself the grace of time. Your pain won’t disappear overnight, and, as Job learned and you already know, all your questions may not be answered this side of death. Can you live with that?
“Whom have I in heaven but You? And there is none upon earth that I desire besides You. My flesh and my heart fail; But God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever” (Psalm 73:25-26).
God never promised that we wouldn’t suffer. Yet I know from experience that focusing on Him instead of my losses and pain brings peace, and eventually, healing.
God is kind. I’m praying that you will trust that truth, no matter how you feel.