Death Angel

It was the summer of 1995, and my small group went to visit my Father-in-law who’d been recently diagnosed with cancer. As we sat around him, our facilitator shared the gospel and gave him the opportunity to repent and put his faith in Christ. I’ve already committed my life to Christ, he replied. Well, if that was the case, there was no need to push the matter any further. We dismissed the meeting and after fellowshipping, we all left.

Over the course of a few months, I continued praying for him. I pleaded with the Lord to heal him, but despite my constant pleas, he remained sick with increasing issues. In the midst of it, the Christmas season was quickly approaching, and although the western world was getting ready for “the most wonderful time of the year”, it certainly didn’t feel like a joyous season in our household. As I was praying some time later, these words from a song came to me, “be sure, be very sure, your anchor holds, and grips the solid rock.” Be sure? I believed this was a message the Lord was giving me - a message for my Father-in-law. I called my Mother-in-law and asked if we could come back for a visit, to which she happily agreed. Once we arrived, I shared the lyrics with my leader, and asked if he could facilitate based on those words. As my Father-in-law laid limp and nearly lifeless on the bed with our group members surrounding him, our leader shared the message of Christ, and shared the words, Be sure, be very sure, your anchor holds, and grips the solid rock. Soon after, my Father-in-law was given another opportunity to repent, and this time he replied with a resounding, “yes, I want to commit my life to Jesus.” Praise God! This was an answer to our prayer. We were all overwhelmed with joy, especially my soon-to-be widowed Mother-in-law. Yes, two days later we received news that my Father-in-law went home to be with the Lord.

A few months had passed, and my prayer partner and I were interceding for one of her patients who was terminally ill. As we prayed, I felt the Lord leading me to visit her in the hospital, but I later discovered my offer was declined by the patient’s parents. As I prayed for her again one day, the Lord led me to read Ezekiel three. When I got to verse 18, my stomach knotted. I was gripped with fear as I read, “If I warn the wicked, saying, ‘You are under the penalty of death,’ but you fail to deliver the warning, they will die in their sins. And I will hold you responsible for their deaths.” Fail to deliver the warning? Hold me responsible for their death? God, what are you trying to say? I was in complete shock. Would I be held responsible for her death if I failed to visit her? I tried everything I could! I reached out to her parents, but they declined my visit. This wasn’t my fault. It couldn’t be.

A few days later, I called my Pastor and shared my predicament. He said to me, “there’s a saying, ‘if you can’t talk to the Jews about Jesus, then talk to Jesus about the Jews’”. Yes, talk to Jesus about the Jews! That was the solution to my problem, and that’s exactly what I did. I continued praying for the young lady, and pleaded with God to open the door for me to visit and share the gospel. In what seemed like a few weeks, I received an early morning call from my prayer partner, asking if I could accompany her to visit the young lady. Me, come and visit? I couldn’t believe my ears. I asked my partner if she received permission for me to join, to which she confirmed the patient’s mother stated she was welcome to bring a friend along. Wow, talk about answered prayers and opened doors! I woke up that morning, enthused and eager to do what I felt called to do, despite weeks of opposition. Once my friend picked me up, we drove over to her patient’s residence. Upon arrival, we were greeted by a security guard who inquired about the reason for our visit. After a few questions and a brief phone call, the gates were opened for us to enter. We took the elevator to her floor, and finally arrived at her apartment. With my heart beating like what seemed 200 beats per minute, my partner knocked on the door, and a soft voice greeted us from the inside with a, “come in, it’s open.” Once inside, the young lady’s parents were sitting in the dining room area, and her mother pointed to the room. I couldn’t fathom what this mother was enduring; witnessing her 21 year old daughter dying from terminal stomach cancer. Witnessing her slowly fade away. My heart ached. We then entered the room, and as the young lady saw my partner, she was filled with excitement. I will never forget the big smile that filled her entire face. I quickly introduced myself, and shared the gospel with this young lady who seemingly didn’t have much time left. I gave her an invitation to repent and put her faith in Christ, which thankfully she did. My partner and I prayed and fellowshipped with her for a few minutes, and just before leaving, she lifted up her nightgown and showed us her stomach. It was a scary sight to behold. How could someone so young be subject to so much pain and suffering? My heart ached again. I told her she could talk to Jesus anytime because he is always with us - and those were my final words. About two weeks later, I received a call from my friend, stating she passed away. I was saddened, and grieved, yet I was thankful. I was thankful that it was well with her soul. I was thankful for receiving the opportunity to visit her during her final weeks on earth. For that, my heart rejoiced.

Fastforward to the early 2000s, I went to visit my Mother-in-law during her Tuesday night prayer meeting. There was one particular lady, who on several occasions asked my Mother-in-law if I could pay her a visit, and during the course of that week, the Lord continuously laid it on my heart to go. A few days later, my Mother-in-law and I went to visit. We sat down, chatted, and soon after, she disclosed a few of her current struggles. She spent a considerable amount of time stating how the doctors amputated the wrong leg due to her diabetes; I spent a considerable amount of time encouraging her from God’s word and praying for her predicament. Three days later, I received a call from my Mother-in-law, informing me the lady was taken to hospital due to a stroke. A stroke? I couldn’t believe it. I just saw her three days ago! We just spent time fellowshipping and praying for one another. I felt that weird feeling again.

About a week later, I visited her at the hospital, and although she didn’t know I was present, I prayed with her and let her know I was going to continue praying. A few days later, she was transferred to the hospital closer to her home, but unfortunately, she never recovered from the stroke. She passed away days later. I was devastated. I couldn’t believe she was gone. How could this be? Why was I spending so much time praying and visiting these people, but it still ended in death? I became discouraged, enraged and arrogant. Why aren’t you healing these people, God? Why do you keep leading me to visit and pray for them, just to have them die? Moments later, I heard a gentle rebuke. Who told you I’m not healing them? You are only looking for physical healing, but I am providing spiritual healing. Then it hit me. God was using me to prepare these people for an eternity with Him. Although their physical bodies perished, like the hymnist wrote, it was well with their souls - and that’s certainly the best type of healing.

Years later, my husband asked me to accompany him to visit his former coworker who was ill. Prior to going, I spent time asking God to give me insight in what I should say, and I was left with the duty of encouraging her to forgive her offenders. I was beyond excited! I felt this just might be the one God chose to heal from their sickness. Days later, we paid a visit to her home. There were several people at her house once we arrived, but shortly after, my husband introduced us and we quickly became acquainted. I can’t remember how the conversation switched, but all of a sudden, I was speaking to her, along with her brother and his wife at the dinner table. As I began sharing the gospel with her, I noticed her sister-in-law crying as I spoke. I felt my confidence rise. I proceeded to share the message about forgiving those who had hurt her, to which she disclosed the years of hurt she’d been carrying. I encouraged her to write them a letter, letting them know she forgave them, and had her repeat a prayer of repentance. I left there feeling great. I was confident God would restore her health, and was certain she would be stronger on our next visit. Well, I was quickly humbled. We went back to visit weeks later, but by this time, she was too weak to speak. About a month later, she passed away. I felt that feeling again, but I couldn’t put a name to it. Disappointment? Anger? Frustration? I didn’t understand why this kept happening. I felt like I was back at square one.

Years later, I shared those experiences during testimony sessions at church. I quickly regretted my vulnerability, as some people started teasing me, pleading with me not to pray for them if they ever became sick. My spirit was crushed. Did people see me as a death angel? Did I view myself as a death angel? I later shared my experiences with my Pastor, as the burden became too much to bear. He said in praying for people, it should never be my glory, and therefore, it should never be my shame. Whatever means God is using, it is all for his Glory - and those words changed my entire perspective

As I reflect on those experiences, I always wonder what would’ve happened if God granted physical healing to all those I’d laid hands on in prayer. Would I become prideful, and glorify myself for the good work I was doing, or would I recognize myself as merely God’s vessel and glorify Him for the work he did through me? As I read the scriptures, I noticed on several occasions how God used his servants to do great things, but the glory was always directed to Him, and He always did what was best. I’ll never forget the words of John Piper, “God has graced us with his grace, therefore, whatever we do, must be for His name sake. Never ours.”

I’m committed to obeying whatever task God calls me to, and I am compelled by His glory alone. There are many people who are lost and on their way to an eternity without knowing Christ. I will remain faithful to the call of sharing the life-giving message of the gospel to those who are dying, and look forward to the day when I’ll be reunited with them all.

Whatever you do, do it all for the glory of God. 1 Corinthians 10:31