Tell Jesus Thank You

“No eye has seen, no ear has heard, no mind conceived what God has prepared for those who love Him” (1 Corinthians 2:9).

It was an “out of the boat” moment; one I had been praying for. But when it arrived I almost let it pass out of fear. Stepping forward in faith is often much easier to talk about than live out, especially when others are watching you. My first reaction, when talking to a dying friend long distance as a mutual friend placed her cell phone on speaker, was to play it safe; not rock the boat of anyone’s spiritual convictions. After all, who am I to cast judgment on her faith? It’s not polite to seek assurance of her salvation, is what my mind was saying. But isn’t that what real love does? Shouldn’t I share the truth of Christ’s penalty for our sins so those who believe this will be guaranteed a place in heaven with Him? Now or never had arrived and I had a choice to make.

The call with my friend was pre-arranged the day before. My friend is losing her ability to speak and write. She’s dying of brain cancer. Knowing friends would be visiting her on Wednesday, the time was set for me to call one of the women’s cell phone. After a restless night with little sleep, I felt a strong urging to pray with her on the phone. Hours before the call I said, “Lord, you calmed the raging seas when you walked on water. Surely you can calm the storm that rages in my girlfriend’s head, even for a little while”. Simple as that prayer was, it carried a big request. My friend had not been able to make complete sentences for a week. In my hour of need I was asking for a miracle—the ability for her to understand me and me to understand her.

When I dialed the number I had no idea what I would find on the other end. Each day brings many changes in my friend’s condition. The cancer is spreading rapidly. My girlfriend, whose cell number I was calling, had offered to be the mediator as she held up her phone on speaker. A third girlfriend introduced herself, so now there were four of us connected. Nervously I said hello to my dying friend. To my delight a beautiful exchange of words took place between us. I was able to tell her I loved her and she replied in kind. What joy! But God told me I wasn’t done yet.

In an instant, I asked if it would be alright if I prayed with her. She muffled “yes” along with my girlfriend’s utterance of “go for it, Mare” setting the stage. Fumbling at first, I felt the Holy Spirit guiding me out of my comfort zone. Suddenly I was speaking as He directed. Recently my friend had slyly interjected into a sentence that she would put in a good word for me. This statement came on the heels of her latest MRI results—the tumor was growing and time was running out. I did not initially understand what she meant. Then it hit me. She was offering to put in a good word for me when she went to heaven.

There was no time to waste. Jesus had given me this chance to share Scriptures with her, and to tell her something precious. “When you get to heaven tell Jesus I said thank you”. As the cell phone owner began to speak she couldn’t contain her excitement. She hadn’t seen our sick friend so lucid and able to complete a sentence until this exchange. Praise God for this moment! He’d taken my trembling spirit and walked beside me that day. I felt as if I were really in that hospital room hundreds of miles away.

In this season of grief I am learning from death how to really live. I want to have more moments like Peter did—scared but willing to step out of the boat into the raging water where only complete dependency on Christ can uphold me. As I make this journey, I am comforted by the reality that God wants to bring glory to His name through all who are willing to trust and obey. What a treasure to be able to share with my friends that for all who love Jesus the best is yet to come. I’m still telling God “thank you” for this story, and for the gift of eternal life. Are you? “No eye has seen, no ear has heard, no mind conceived what God has prepared for those who love Him” (1 Corinthians 2:9).

Your fellow sojourner,

Mary