A Prayer for Annie

It was late at night when I knelt by my daughter’s bed. As I had done for the last several months, I cried out to God for healing. I commanded the enemy to leave her alone. I pleaded for God to protect her. I was facing the greatest challenge in any father’s life and it was quickly becoming more than I could bear.

My young daughter, Annie, was suffering from a serious life-threatening illness. She had been in and out of hospitals but all the doctors could do was adjust her medication to try to control her disease. When she was home, she required a lot of special care. There was no hope of a cure. I was told that 25 percent of children with this illness die before age 24.

Throughout her illness, I felt helpless. There seemed to be nothing I could do to make her better. I did not understand what she was going through or how to respond to her needs. I could not sleep at night. I woke at two or three each morning and simply could not go back to sleep. I began to get angry at God and searched for something positive I could do.

Finally, I decided to use these sleepless times to pray for Annie. I went up to her room and knelt over her bed. I put one hand on her and prayed for God to protect her. After doing this for months, something different happened one night. As I got up to leave, I heard this little voice say, "I love you Daddy." It melted my heart.

Neither of us mentioned the prayer time the next morning. I had no idea that this ritual of prayer would continue for four years. Every night I would slip into her room and two or three times a week, as I left, I would once again hear "I love you Daddy."

I always felt better after prayer, so I no longer resented my inability to sleep. I began to look forward to that quiet time with the Lord praying for my daughter. Four years after she got sick, Annie’s condition started to improve. I was able to sleep through most of the nights so I did not go into her room as often to pray for her.

Annie and I never spoke openly about those nights of prayer. It was a quiet secret that we shared but never discussed. It was almost as if talking about those times would break the spell of peace they brought to us. That was about to change. God was going to bless us both in a way that we could never have imagined.

One Friday afternoon, Annie excitedly ran into the house with a gift that she could not even wait to wrap before giving to me. She had found it that afternoon at our local Christian book store. She held it behind her back but it was too large to be completely hidden so I could tell it was a picture frame. She sat me down and pulled out a painting. She burst into tears as she gave it to me. One look at the painting and I was in tears as well. It was a painting of a father kneeling over his daughter’s bed in prayer. The caption said "Spiritual Warfare" and it quoted James 5:16: "The prayer of a righteous man is powerful and effective."

What had remained unspoken all those years, all the sleepless nights of prayer, all the whispered "I love you Daddy’s," suddenly came out. We hugged each other as Annie told me how much those early morning prayers meant to her. I was in such awe of God and His grace that I was speechless as he revealed to me the true power of prayer. In that brief moment, Annie redeemed all those sleepless nights of worry which I now would not trade for four years of peace.

I learned that the real power of prayer is not in the content of the prayer but in the simple act of getting down on my knees before the Lord. That had sustained Annie and me for those four long years. God already knew how the struggle was going to end. What was important to me and my family was that during each sleepless night, through prayer, I was able to take Annie by the hand as we walked beside the Lord God in the garden in the cool of day just as Adam and Eve did before the fall (Genesis 3:8). Therein lies the true power of prayer.

Several years later, God completely healed Annie much to the surprise of her doctors. She has now given us a beautiful grandchild. Someday I will tell him the story of how I fought on my knees for four long years for his mother’s life. I hope he will come to understand the power that can be found in the simple act of prayer.