As pastors, we didn’t realize how breezy good wishes might feel to someone who was sick until we became seriously ill ourselves. Our experiences over the last few years have given us a new perspective. A cheery “Get well soon!” may be well-meaning, but it can also feel like pressure. Healing can’t be rushed, and chronic or terminal illnesses will never go away. Lengthy and repeated hospitalizations can reshape the particularities of what we ask from God.
Elizabeth had surgeries for two different primary cancers in 2020, both of which had complications. She spent several nights in the intensive care unit and months in radiation and chemotherapy. She was in the hospital that April for eight nights, unable to have any visitors. Since they could not help in usual ways, seven of her family members across the country cut or shaved their hair in solidarity for her chemo treatments, but then Elizabeth’s hair did not fall out.
In 2022, Samantha mysteriously contracted the antibiotic-resistant infection MRSA and was in septic shock by the time she went to the emergency room. She was in the ICU for a week and the hospital for an additional three weeks. This was at the height of the COVID-19 omicron variant, and she was limited to two visitors during her entire month in the hospital. Her least favorite comments were from people who told her that she could use all her free time to catch up on Netflix.
Earlier in our ministries, we prayed easily with the ill. Elizabeth used to pray for “patience, strength and courage” with hospitalized parishioners, probably throwing in a plea for “a swift recovery.” Samantha would pray for “God’s presence, strength and healing.”
But when Samantha, struggling, called Elizabeth from the ICU to ask how she had prayed in that place, Elizabeth admitted that she too had struggled with prayer while there. The two of us bonded over our shared difficulty praying as well as our annoyance at being awakened at midnight to receive Tylenol.
A couple of months later, after Elizabeth texted Samantha an expletive-laden prayer, Samantha suggested writing an essay of irreverent prayers, which led to the book “Irreverent Prayers: Talking to God When You’re Seriously Sick.” From the experience of being unwell, we have written candid offerings on some very specific fears, demands and irritations associated with serious illness, such as “Antipatience Prayer,” “Get Well Soon” and “Prayer When People Call Me Brave or Inspiring.”
A few months into our writing, Elizabeth’s cancer returned, necessitating more surgery, radiation and targeted therapy. This gave her the opportunity to take the hospital section of our prayers into the hospital to try out.
Samantha also made Elizabeth a laminated sign reading “STOP! Do not wake this patient for Tylenol. Seriously, she doesn’t want the Tylenol. God is watching.” Guess what? We learned that you can refuse late-night administrations of Tylenol in advance. Remember this if you ever have to go into the hospital and don’t want Tylenol at midnight. (You’re welcome.) Elizabeth was also able to fill in some gaps, such as “Prayer for the Alarm That Won’t Stop Going Off.”
It might sound unseemly for two ordained clergy to write — and advocate using — irreverent prayers, but the words “reverence” and “awe” are related to fear, and we long to teach Christians that we do not need to fear sharing our true feelings, in all their messiness, with God. God knows what is on our hearts anyway and longs for a deeper relationship with us.
The Bible also has a strong tradition of people taking all of their feelings to God, and many of the prayers in our book are prefaced by biblical verses or stories. We hope “Irreverent Prayers” will release people from the shame they may feel when the sacred and eloquent prayers they hear in church or read in traditional prayer books feel insincere. We want this book to encourage readers to pray what they are really thinking and to continue to bring all of their hopes and dreams, as well as their anger and heartbreak, to God.
Antipatience Prayer
Dear God, I am grateful for all the people who are praying for me. Really, I am. But please tell whoever is praying for patience to stop. Just stop. I am set with patience. Perhaps they could pray for time to speed up. That would be more helpful. Also, enough with the humility. Tell that prayer warrior to shut up. Amen.
Get Well Soon
Dear God, the Creator of the world, I will not get well soon. Can you please tell my wonderful friends and family to stop telling me that they are praying for a “speedy recovery”? It makes me feel like there is a timeline and I am not adhering to it. If I could get better faster, I would. I know that you created all the world and all that is in it in seven days. Perhaps that has messed with people’s expectations of a reasonable recovery. It might be time to remind people that Paul said Jesus was coming right back, and that was over two thousand years ago. Some things take a little longer than seven days. And, God, could you put in a word with the greeting card industry? Smite the words “speedy” and “quick.” Amen.
