Thursday, September 8, 2016

The Power of Prayer in the Midst of Suffering

Sometimes a person comes into our lives with a gentle spirit that calms us like the warm wind blowing gently across a meadow at sunset. My friend, writer and blogger Kathleen Cope is like that. Get a cup of tea or coffee and sit awhile with her this week and let your soul be rested by her wise and gentle words.

Guest Post by Kathleen Cope

Lying in bed, I couldn’t sleep. Everything in my body told me I was tired. 


Emotionally spent. 

Physically drained. 

My soul longed for restorative sleep and renewed strength. I prayed, “In peace I will both lie down and sleep; for you alone, O Lord, make me dwell in safety.” {Psalm 4:8} Sleep finally won over the reigning heavyweight champion of my thoughts.

My son was having seizures. Every. Single. Day. 

His seizures were getting less predictable and more irregular. Medicine wasn’t doing its job and he seemed to be getting worse.

Answers were nowhere to be found. The smartest doctors in the world couldn’t tell me what was wrong with my son. 

They told me what I already knew. His brain was “misfiring”. But no one could tell me why.

It was mind-boggling. I didn’t understand it. Every fiber of my mama-bear-being wanted to know why and how to make him better.

At the time, my son was the oldest of three. My youngest was just nine months old and still nursing. With three children five years old and under, epilepsy pushed me over the edge into dark waters that threatened to overtake me. 

Drowning, what choice did I have but to swim?

On my own I couldn’t carry the weight of it all. My head kept going under as I tried to swim with all my children’s needs in tow. My hands were full and I couldn’t kick hard enough to keep all our heads above water.

When God handed me a life jacket, I grabbed hold of it. Our very lives depended on it.

Prayer was my life preserver. 

The reality that I’m not in control of this life was staring me straight in the face. So in desperation, I waved my hands in surrender, reaching out to the One who is in control. 

Prayer tethered me to the Lord in a way that made me, and us, as a family, unsinkable

The power of prayer is found in the act of reaching out to God. Trust is built in the sacred place of prayer. 

Over-thinking prayer can be what keeps you and I from praying at all. We might be busy conjuring up our own rescue plan, or be so paralyzed with panic, that we don’t reach out for the very thing that could keep us afloat. 

As a family, we prayed for my son’s healing on a daily basis. As the days turned into months, and months into years, we continued to pray every night before bed. Our dependence on God and our trust in Him grew. Walking through suffering, as a family, sowed seeds of genuine faith into the hearts of my children.  

No one ever chooses suffering, but the toil of suffering digs deep roots of faith.

Through the Scriptures, Jesus personally spoke into the types of challenges my son was facing. This difficult season of suffering is what the Lord used to lead my son to accept Jesus as his personal Lord and Savior. 

God turned my mourning into dancing {Psalm 30:11}.

As my son approached his ninth birthday, the day came for yet another EEG. He had been seizure-free for three years due to the strictness of a doctor-prescribed-diet for epileptics, called the Ketogenic Diet. (link: ) The results of the EEG held the key that would unlock the door to my son’s future. 

The night before his EEG, panic threatened to paralyze me as the all-too-familiar dark waters surrounded me. 

By God’s grace, I reached out for my life preserver. 

This time I asked my prayer warrior friends to join me in praying,

“Lord, I believe; help my unbelief!” {Mark 9:24}

My son and I watched the sunrise that morning before his appointment. We opened up the Bible and read these words, 

“But do not forget this one thing, dear friends: with the Lord a day is like a thousand years, a thousand years are like a day. The Lord is not slow in keeping his promise as some understand slowness. Instead he is patient with you.” {2 Peter 3:8,9} 

God never promised healing for my son but He promised to be patient. God is never late and always on time. 

I could trust Him.

The call came that I didn’t know I’d ever receive. 

My son ~ healed from epilepsy. 

It was an absolute miracle. One that didn’t happen overnight but in the end it all had a purpose. 

Nothing was wasted. 

God answered the deepest utterances of my heart. He saved my son not just for this life but for the life everlasting. 


Kathleen Cope is a wife and mother of four precious children.  She is  passionate about mothering and raising up the next generation to know and love Jesus. Kathleen is an active leader in her local church and loves to pour into younger women in the context of discipleship.  

Kathleen began blogging when her son was diagnosed with epilepsy as a way to cement God’s Truth into her heart during a tumultuous time.  

She writes regularly at 
Follow her on Instagram @kathleenevelyncope or 
Twitter @kathleencope


  1. I have also been clinging to the only thing that keeps us afloat in times of trouble!! Great read.

    1. Keep clinging my friend. May God hold you tight as you reach out to Him through prayer.