Prayer Too

July 24

When the Answer to a Prayer Seems to be No

Last week, I was in the hospital for a few days. There, I had an interesting experience during a medical test. Some might say it was challenging.

I did not find it challenging. Frankly, it only occurred to me a couple of days afterward to think much about it. Right afterward , I was too pleased to be told I could go home.

The test was a tilt table test. I had no idea what it involved. I assumed there would be a table and, with me on it, it would be tilted. I imagined it would take a few moments.

My imagination was not up to par. When I was brought into the test area, there was indeed a table and I was instructed to lie down on it. Then I was--well, the word that comes to mind is “adhered”–I was adhered to the table by broad bands, which were then securely fixed. The broadness of the bands struck me as funny in a not-so-funny way. I inquired: Do you now administer a lethal injection? Look,. that’s how I react to anything that catches me off guard: I make a joke. But the fact is, the only time I had ever seen anyone held fast to a table with wide bands was on TV, when the next step was indeed lethal injection.

I was the only one who laughed–not a unique experience for me, but one which did not raise my comfort level.

I was told that the table (with me “adhered’ to it) would be tilted until I was upright. The test would take thirty minutes or a little longer, the technician said–a lot longer than I had imagined. Then the table was tilted to a standing position, and I set to praying. In front of me was a curtain with an unattractive print of regular, no-color circles. Time passed slowly. The technician and the cardiologist monitoring the test communicated with each other, but not with me. I said, It would be a good idea to paint smiley faces on the circles, to make them less boring to look at. I was told it would be good not to speak. I shut up.

And focused on my prayers, which no one but God would hear. I wanted God’s help to keep myself upright–which I’d figured out was the idea. The test. I repeated my favorite one-line prayer many times, and tried to visualize God behind me, holding me upright. As the minutes passed, my prayers seemed to be having some effect. .

Then, with only five minutes to go, a nitroglycerine tablet was put under my tongue. My mouth was dry–not from any degree of fear–by then I thought I had the test aced–but because I was thirsty. Being ridiculously honest, I reported that the tablet was not dissolving, and asked if I should suck it. Yes, they said. I sucked it. Whereupon I felt slightly lightheaded or maybe a little dizzy–am not good at telling them apart They asked how I felt, and I was trying to figure out which it was.

Next thing I knew I was un-tilted, supine again, and both the technician and cardiologist were very busy bringing me back. From pretty far.

When I was deemed well enough for him to leave, the cardiologist, who had not laughed at my two jokes, said, You may not think this is funny. But thanks for fainting, that’s the only time this test is interesting. Or unfunny words to that effect. He also said I could still go home as scheduled–the words I wanted to hear..

Not much more than half an hour later, I was back in my room. And two hours later, I was home.

Did God flunk the test, too? Just after I sucked the nitroglycerine tablet, did God get bored and take a break? ? First, of all, it never occurred to me to test God. I just don’t have other language to use right now. So: I don’t think God flunked the test–or failed me. I think the real purpose of my prayers was answered. God wasn’t there to fiddle with the test. God’s purpose was to stop me from feeling all alone during the test. When the technician and the cardiologist were doing their thing, God was doing that.

Being with me. That’s what God does.