When Prayers go Unanswered

Last Monday a new lady joined our Bible study at the Baptist church. I have been thinking a

lot about her and praying for her over the intervening days. She explained quite early on that

she had been widowed for a year or so. Over the course of the session, we had a discussion

about trusting God in prayer and she emotionally told us the story that she had lost a son at

5 years old to Leukaemia. The whole church community had been praying earnestly for his

healing and yet he died. She said she knew that she was not worthy, that she knew she did

not have a powerful faith, but the fact that all those people, holy people, were praying and

God did not answer their prayers was something she had not gotten over for years and

years. It was a great honour to be trusted with this painful story, especially on the first

evening she had joined us and she was obviously filled with pain and raw emotion as she

recounted it and shared her feelings.

I felt very exposed as everyone in the room turned their eyes to me to give the right answer.

The day before had been my daughter Ruth’s 23rd birthday. We lost Ruth in a horrible

accident in 2009 but the loss still feels as raw as it ever did and the feelings of grief are

heightened at times like her birth or the anniversary of her death. I knew everyone was

expecting me to explain to this lovely lady how I had coped and how Jesus had answered

her prayer and how she had got it wrong, but I was just feeling too raw to talk about Ruth.

Instead, I felt prompted to share "Some Definite Service" by Saint John Henry Cardinal

Newman, which goes like this:

God knows me and calls me by my name.…

God has created me to do Him some definite service;

He has committed some work to me

which He has not committed to another.

I have my mission—I never may know it in this life,

but I shall be told it in the next.

Somehow I am necessary for His purposes…

I have a part in this great work;

I am a link in a chain, a bond of connection

between persons.

He has not created me for naught. I shall do good,

I shall do His work;

I shall be an angel of peace, a preacher of truth

in my own place, while not intending it,

if I do but keep His commandments

and serve Him in my calling.

Therefore I will trust Him.

Whatever, wherever I am,

I can never be thrown away.

If I am in sickness, my sickness may serve Him;

In perplexity, my perplexity may serve Him;

If I am in sorrow, my sorrow may serve Him.

My sickness, or perplexity, or sorrow may be

necessary causes of some great end,

which is quite beyond us.

He does nothing in vain; He may prolong my life,

He may shorten it;

He knows what He is about.

He may take away my friends,

He may throw me among strangers,

He may make me feel desolate,

make my spirits sink, hide the future from me—

still He knows what He is about.…

Let me be Thy blind instrument. I ask not to see—

I ask not to know—I ask simply to be used.

- from Meditations and Devotions,

Meditations on Christian Doctrine, Hope in God—Creator March 7, 1848

At some point I will share my story with this lady if it seems appropriate. But I did feel I

needed to offer something to the group about this, so I wrote down some of my thoughts.

Perhaps you would be interested in them as well?

The question of why sincere prayers, such as those for the healing of a dying child, may

seem unanswered is a profound and challenging aspect of faith that has been contemplated

by theologians and believers throughout history. However, several key points can help

illuminate this complex issue. First and foremost, it is essential to recognise that prayer is not

merely about asking for specific outcomes but is fundamentally about entering into a

relationship with God. A mature faith trusts in the Lord’s providence and His greater plan for

our lives, even when our petitions seem to go unheard. The example of Jesus in

Gethsemane illustrates this point; despite His earnest prayer for the cup to pass from Him,

He ultimately submitted to the Father’s will, which led to the salvation of humanity.

The Christian understanding of suffering also plays a crucial role in this discussion. Suffering

is a mystery that can lead to spiritual growth and deeper communion with Christ. Prayer

does not exempt individuals from trials and suffering but allows them to endure these

experiences in union with Christ, who Himself suffered. This perspective suggests that while

healing may not occur in the way one hopes, the experience of suffering can lead to a

profound transformation and a deeper understanding of God’s love and presence. Moreover,

the sincerity of prayer does not guarantee a specific outcome. As St. Augustine pointed out,

humans often do not know what to pray for as they ought, and sometimes what is requested

may not align with God’s ultimate plan for good. The act of praying itself can be a means of

growing in faith and trust, even when the desired outcome is not realised. The persistent

prayer of the Canaanite woman, who continued to seek Jesus’ help despite initial rejection,

exemplifies the courage and tenacity in prayer that God values.

Finally, we need to consider the mystery of divine providence. The Church teaches that

God’s ways are not always comprehensible to human understanding. The Book of Wisdom

reflects on the perplexity of human suffering and the need for divine wisdom to navigate

these challenges. While it is natural to seek immediate relief from suffering, the broader

context of God’s plan may involve a deeper purpose that transcends human understanding.

In the face of profound loss and the mystery of unanswered prayers, we are reminded of the

depth and complexity of our journey through life which can only be stronger lived through the

lens of our Catholic faith. The heartfelt sharing of this new member's story serves as a

poignant testament to the enduring struggle many experience when prayers seem to go

unanswered. It is in these moments of vulnerability that we can find incredible strength in our

Christian community, which offers a safe haven for sharing grief and a place where we can

find empathy and mutual support. Sometimes, just the regularity of communal prayer can be

the thing that keeps you going. As we navigate these challenging questions together, let us

never forget that, even in our suffering, God's incredible love remains unwavering. Through our collective faith and compassion, we can become instruments of His peace, providing

comfort to one another and finding purpose amidst our trials. When we do, we honour the

memory of those we've lost and reaffirm our trust in God's greater plan, even when it lies

beyond our understanding: Let me be Thy blind instrument. I ask not to see— I ask not to

know—I ask simply to be used.