His Will Be Done

Monday, March 13: “Father, if you are willing, remove this cup from me; yet, not my will but yours be done.” Then an angel from heaven appeared to him and gave him strength. In his anguish he prayed more earnestly, and his sweat became like great drops of blood falling down on the ground.

Luke 22:42-44

Often, when we pray, we only ask. We ask God to heal sickness, or to bring us a better job or a nicer house. We ask for things that will make us happy. Our supplications are about asking the Lord to make the world conform to the plan that we have for it.

On the Mount of Olives, the night before Jesus was hung on the Cross, he asked for something different. He knew what the next day certainly would bring, but he asked God to take that cup from his lips. How many times have we all asked the same? Knowing that something awful was right around the corner, we asked that it pass away, that we not have to drink from that cup. Sometimes it’s a test in school, other times it’s a horrible job interview or seeing a divorce lawyer, but we wish that the cup might pass.

My Dad was a powerful man, full of life. He filled every room he entered, and would know every person in the room before the night was done. But towards the end of his life, as his organs failed, he could no longer speak or walk well. The only room he could fill was his own bedroom as the hospice doctor came to visit.

I wished that my Dad would not die. I could not believe that he was really that sick. I hoped that he would just bounce back. I wanted my will, not His will, to be done.

Several years have passed. The sharpness of his death is gone. My Mom followed him, after a couple of years, and their graves are beside each other. The flag that draped his coffin is above this desk as I write.

As I pray, now, I also listen. I listen for His Word of comfort and to discover what His will is for me, not just what my ego wants. I know that angels give strength to me today, just as they gave strength at Gethsemane. And I know that whatever my anguish is, my God has felt it as flesh and blood.

Jesus, as you prayed in the night before you were betrayed,

Your sweat became blood in your anguish.

Remember your children who are still here on Earth.

Let them call to you.

Let them hear your voice.

Let your Father’s will be done.

Amen

Dennis Blazak

Joyjoywrld57@msn.com