Prayer at a Time of War

Prayer of the week

We were in the hospital room yesterday when we heard the news of the expansion of war in the Middle East.

My daughter Raven is courageously battling cancer. Tomorrow she will wrap up her second-to-last chemo treatment. On Monday, we will find a moment, between radiation and acupuncture treatments, to celebrate her 20th birthday. There are about five weeks remaining of her treatment plan, barring any further hiccups. It has been a long eight months, and we are tired, but the ember of hope burns brightly.

Throughout Raven’s cancer treatment, we have been praying for a peaceful resolution to the Israel-Palestine war. Intuitively I sense that peace will not come from political machinations, negotiations and treaties, but from a tidal wave of changed hearts within the affected populations. So we pray for peace and brotherhood to reign in the hearts of the regular people on both sides of the conflict.

I keep thinking that there are families in similar situations to ours—with a cancer diagnosis in the family—but living in Gaza, or Yemen, or any number of war torn regions across the globe. Who can’t get to the hospital because of streets filled with rubble. Or because the hospital itself has been bombed. I ask God to be with them in their suffering, in their sorrow and fear. I ask my brother Yeshua to reveal his unconquerable love to all involved; to the combatants and civilians, to the victims and perpetrators alike.

Raven hopes that war expansions will not dampen her coming victory over cancer. I think her exact words were, “If World War III breaks out right when I beat cancer, I’m gonna be pissed.” Then she said, “I’m so sick of governments deciding my future for me.” (She’s her mother’s daughter; what can I say?)

But Raven’s healing journey, this war of a different kind, has been teaching me something about hope. There have been points of this journey at which it was impossible to see the road ahead. There have been points where her suffering was so immense that healing felt like a pipe dream. I have had to battle so many of my own inner obstacles to get to this place of simple trust, the only footing from which I can assent to the divine will.

The thing I have learned about hope is that it is entirely independent of what happens, because it lives outside of time and the procession of events. Hope lives in the eternal realm, in the life perpetual, and penetrates through to us in our narrow-view temporality. Hope is the divine assurance of the Good, reaching out to us with an invitation to trust. To let our little hand be enfolded in the hand of God. To allow ourselves to be led innocently through all manner of troubles.

And peace? Peace comes from that innocent trust. With the Father’s patience and help, it roots inwardly and expresses outwardly, healing rifts and closing the chasms between us. Shifting our perspectives so that the impossible seems inevitable.

In that spirit of inevitability, I ask you to join me in this prayer.

Abba, Father of all Humanity,

Enliven the love
at the core of every human heart.
Let the white dove alight
on the olive branches of our family tree.
Let weary, frightened souls awake
from the fever dream of war.
Wake them in their thousands,
tomorrow, and every morrow,
to the possibility of peace.
Embolden our feet
to walk away from destruction
and onto your holy paths.
Strengthen our hands
to do the work of brotherhood,
the work of unity,
the work of peace.

Amen.

---

Thank you for praying with me. Truly, it helps more than you know.

Raven’s 20th birthday is in two days! Her birthday wish is to have complete remission from cancer. If you feel pulled to help our family get through the final few weeks of Raven’s cancer treatment (and transition back to normal life), please consider donating to her GoFundMe:

Or, if you feel so inspired, you can support my work by becoming a paid subscriber to this Substack for $5/month or making a one-time contribution through the Buy Me a Coffee link below.

---

Previous Prayers of the Week: