Praying the Word: When You Are Grieving a Child’s Disability
On the surface, prayer seems simple. It’s talking to God. But in practice, we may have a lot of questions. “Am I doing this right? Is there a ‘right’ way to do it? What am I supposed to say? Are there things I shouldn’t pray about?” Or maybe we feel pretty comfortable with praying, but we struggle with getting bored or losing focus.
Whatever our struggles with prayer, Scripture can be helpful. As Donald Whitney explains, “Praying the Bible isn’t complicated. Read through a few verses of Scripture, pause at the end of each phrase or verse, and pray about what the words suggest to you.” (You can read more from Donald Whitney about how to pray Scripture in this article.)
In the Praying the Word series, we’ll take the idea of praying Scripture and make it practical by sharing a passage of Scripture, an example prayer, and some guided questions to help you make it your own. The example prayer might serve as a model, or you can use it as a prayer for yourself. As you give this a try, don’t worry if it feels awkward or you’re not sure what to say. Remember, the power of prayer doesn’t come from the words we say, but from the One who hears them.
Example Scripture
Psalm 139:1-18
[1] O Lord, you have searched me and known me!
[2] You know when I sit down and when I rise up; you discern my thoughts from afar.
[3] You search out my path and my lying down and are acquainted with all my ways.
[4] Even before a word is on my tongue, behold, O Lord, you know it altogether.
[5] You hem me in, behind and before, and lay your hand upon me.
[6] Such knowledge is too wonderful for me; it is high; I cannot attain it.
[7] Where shall I go from your Spirit? Or where shall I flee from your presence?
[8] If I ascend to heaven, you are there! If I make my bed in Sheol, you are there!
[9] If I take the wings of the morning and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea,
[10] even there your hand shall lead me, and your right hand shall hold me.
[11] If I say, “Surely the darkness shall cover me, and the light about me be night,”
[12] even the darkness is not dark to you; the night is bright as the day, for darkness is as light with you.
[13] For you formed my inward parts; you knitted me together in my mother's womb.
[14] I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made. Wonderful are your works; my soul knows it very well.
[15] My frame was not hidden from you, when I was being made in secret, intricately woven in the depths of the earth.
[16] Your eyes saw my unformed substance; in your book were written, every one of them, the days that were formed for me, when as yet there was none of them.
[17] How precious to me are your thoughts, O God! How vast is the sum of them!
[18] If I would count them, they are more than the sand. I awake, and I am still with you.
Father, I am grieved. I don’t understand. My child is not like other children, and my soul can’t bear it. Why them? Why me? Why us? Why disability at all? I feel like I live in perpetual darkness. Yet somehow, I know the darkness is not dark to you. To you, the night is as bright as the day—darkness is as light! Please Lord, show me your light! You promise you are near, but I can’t find you. Lead me by the hand; help me know where you are and what to do. Hem me in, hold me, for I am lost and alone.
Father, you know my sorrows. You know my fears. I don’t even have to speak them. I don't know how to navigate this new world I am a part of. Doctor appointments, therapists, social workers, special equipment, and therapies—I don’t feel like I’m cut out for this. Yet you knew all of this would happen. You formed my days before I was born, and your Word tells me of your kindness and goodness and that you have equipped me for every good work. Like David, I must remind myself that your ways are higher than mine. Jesus, I cling to your words in John when you told the blind man that his disability happened so “that the works of God might be displayed in him” (John 9:3). I can't see it now. But I trust that you are good and know what is best. May it be so.
Father, help me to not dwell on the past or try to roll back time. My heartache is deep, and I am struggling to not want to change this disability if I could. But it’s a comfort to know every one of my child’s days has been planned by your sovereign hand before time. Their frame and functions were not hidden from you, as you gently wove their genes and atoms together in the womb. Yours is an intentional knit—this heart, this leg, this nose, this laugh—this life. I can trust that you know what is best for my child and what is best for our family, to reflect your glory to the watching world.
Where can I go from your Spirit? Where shall I flee from your presence? Nowhere. And I don’t want to. To whom else will I go? “You have the words of eternal life” (John 6:68). When I am lost in my heartache, I will trust in your past faithfulness to me, in the small comforts you’ve given me today, and, most of all, in your future hope. Thank you for the promise of eternity and the hope of full healing and restoration Jesus purchased on the cross—not only for my child but for all of us. I love to think how someday you yourself will wipe the tears from my eyes. Oh, what a hope. Maranatha!
Make It Your Own:
Praise God: What things in Scripture remind you of God’s intentionality and sovereignty over our bodies? Thank God for being a good, kind, and purposeful maker, both in how our bodies are formed and in how we spend our days.
Confess: What fears do you need to confess to God about your child or their health and care? Where have you doubted God or not trusted his promises in Scripture?
Share Your Heart: What things do you need to tell the Lord from a place of concern and humility? What questions linger, what worries do you harbor, and what do you need to hand over to him?
Ask: Where do you need wisdom? What help and grace do you need? Let the Lord know where you are weak and what specific things you need, letting him have the final and perfect say in how those needs are met and prayers are answered.
