Joleene: on Prayer

[Written by Joleene Kolenburg, who was to be the speaker at a women’s meeting in late 1995 or early 1996. She typed out (in her own style of all caps) what she wanted to share that day. I retyped it out so that we can get a glimpse into the woman that she was – my mother.]

I have always believed in prayer. I was brought up on prayer. I am sure that as my mother sat in the rocking chair and nursed me, she prayed with me. Mom always had a little sign or poster hanging in the kitchen: “Why worry when you can pray?” I’m sure my Dad prayed, too, but men were quieter about it then. So, I was taught at an early age the value of prayer. One of my earlier memories is of writing my prayer requests down on a sheet of notebook paper and folding it up and putting it in my pocket. I lost that list, and I searched and searched for it. One of my brothers came running in with it and proceeded to read it in front of my other brothers. I was humiliated because on that list I had written my heart’s desires and prayer to God: that Robert likes me (the little boy down the road), that my hair will be curly, and that the brothers will not call me Josephus, and really important stuff like that. Well, Robert didn’t like me, my hair didn’t get curly, and the brothers picked on me unmercifully. 

However, in those early years I prayed earnestly for “things” and God did hear and answer my prayers – sometimes in the way I wanted, sometimes not. But I never doubted for a minute that “prayer changes things.”

One of my Mom’s favorite verses was “Pray without ceasing” and that became a verse for me as I got older and retired to Indiana. I found myself talking to the Lord ceaselessly as I drove to and from work, as I walked in the woods, and as I just sat on a bench under the hickory nut tree and missed Chicago. 

So, in November of 1992 when I received an early morning call before 7:00 (and some of you know how I feel about 7:00 a.m. calls) telling me that there was a problem with a mammogram, I prayed that there was a mistake and I was sure that they would recognize that when they did the second one. Another early morning call told me that I needed to see a surgeon, that the second mammo confirmed the first. So, I prayed that the surgeon would see that there was nothing there. When the surgeon said I needed an immediate biopsy, I prayed that the biopsy would show them that there was nothing there. When the biopsy revealed a real problem, with immediate surgery and possible chemo if lymph nodes were affected, I prayed that there would be no positive lymph nodes and therefore no chemo necessary. When chemo was necessary, I prayed that there would be no side effects from this and I would not get too sick. 

After hospitalization twice for transfusions and the loss of my hair all at once on my 63^rd birthday, did I ask myself, “Where is God? Isn’t He hearing me at all?”

Now you may be thinking, “This is supposed to be about answers to prayer… and all you have told us is about the wrong answers. This is not what we want to hear.”

Well, let me tell you that all that happened in a very short time and I was praying all the time. Many of you were also praying. There were many questions and requests that had to be dealt with. When you are diagnosed with cancer and are told to see a surgeon, how many of us know one just down the road that specializes in that very thing? When we are told that we have to see an oncologist, how many of us have two or three in our telephone book just waiting for our call? I had worked with many employees during their bouts with cancer and all that it entails, but I didn’t even know what chemotherapy was! I didn’t know that you needed a “breast doctor” who would be aware that a wrong choice could result in little use of my right arm. So, where did I go? I talked to the Lord and prayed earnestly that he would direct me to the right surgeon. When my doctor, who I had met only briefly when I had a routine annual physical, recommended three with her comments on each, I did not put their names in a hat. I asked God to show me. I called the first one since I had heard his name from a friend, but his line was busy. I called the second one and he had no openings -- after all, it was the holidays. But then he called back and said I could see him. When I met with him and told him the day I would like, he said he couldn’t see me then because he had to be in Chicago the next day and he did not want to miss seeing me the day after surgery. Since I had really not had a lasting relationship with him, I thought that I would rather go ahead with the surgery date and take a chance on one of his colleagues looking me over the next day. And do you know, he was the most caring, concerned surgeon I could possibly have had. And the Lord sent a blizzard to South Bend and Chicago the day after surgery. So, there he was sitting at my bedside, holding my hand, and saying, “I couldn’t go to Chicago today.”

And then, there was the oncologist. My doctor described four for me: one aggressive, one too aggressive, one too laid back, and one the granddaddy of them all and maybe not too up on the latest. No, I did not go into this lightly. After prayer and assurance, I went with the aggressive (not the too aggressive) oncologist, having never heard his name before. Since that time, I have seen him on TV as a regular when they need an expert on oncology. I heard him arranging a seminar that he would be heading for doctors from all over the country and, as he apologized for the interruption, he explained that he had to get the dates set because he does this every year. Was this all chance? No, this was the result of prayer – the prayers of many of you.

A psalm that really sums up what went on in my mind during those days is Psalm 13:

 How long wilt thou forget me, O LORD? for ever? how long wilt thou hide thy face from me?

 How long shall I take counsel in my soul, having sorrow in my heart daily? how long shall mine enemy be exalted over me?

 Consider and hear me, O LORD my God: lighten mine eyes, lest I sleep the sleep of death;

 Lest mine enemy say, I have prevailed against him; and those that trouble me rejoice when I am moved.

 But I have trusted in thy mercy; my heart shall rejoice in thy salvation.

 I will sing unto the LORD, because he hath dealt bountifully with me.

And then last June, after 30 months of relatively good health, I was told again that “it doesn’t look good.” It was the chest x-ray this time. And so began ten days of test, scans, and doctor’s probing. Having worked at Moody Bible Institute and having Christian friends throughout the country, very quickly there was a network of people praying for me. And this time, I couldn’t pray. I just couldn’t ask the Lord for something that I had not seen happen for so many of my friends at MBI. Why was I any different? My faith was small. But the faith of my friends and loved ones was not small. They prayed for a miracle, and the day we went for the results of the tests the oncologist said, “There is no liver cancer. There is no bone cancer.” I could not help but sing the song: “They took their friend to Jesus; he had no faith of his own; but Jesus saw the faith of a few close friends, and said, ‘Take up your bed and go home.’” And so, I went home rejoicing and 2 Corinthians 1:8-11 became very real to me.

For we would not, brethren, have you ignorant of our trouble which came to us in Asia, that we were pressed out of measure, above strength, insomuch that we despaired even of life:

 But we had the sentence of death in ourselves, that we should not trust in ourselves, but in God which raiseth the dead:

 Who delivered us from so great a death, and doth deliver: in whom we trust that he will yet deliver us;

 Ye also helping together by prayer for us, that for the gift bestowed upon us by the means of many persons thanks may be given by many on our behalf.

And that was the end of my story as I wrote it out on Sunday night. But then, there was Monday. I had an appointment with the oncologist to go over the most recent chest x-ray and cat scan and discuss the treatment necessary to take care of this cancer in the lungs. I was the 41^st of 43 who was being asked to participate in a research project by Michiana Hematology, the University of Chicago, and the Cancer and Leukemia group. I will start a series of chemo next Monday morning, continue for 5 days, and then repeat every three weeks. They will monitor my blood count and my tumors on a regular basis to see what is happening. I have until Sunday night to decide if I want to go that way. I would ask you to pray with me about this. I believe that this is the answer to the prayers of this past week. God is so good. I never dreamed that I would be eligible for this kind of thing – because of my age, because of Medicare… you know. But he is not finished with me yet. I am so thankful for His care and His leading. 

I cannot talk for this long a period and not mention the Internet. Last January I discovered the Internet and became a real surfer. I email my friends from California to Africa. I also belong to a group of fellow breast cancer survivors and this has become a real support group for me. Just recently one of the doctors on the list wrote, “Wouldn’t it be nice if the Internet reached heaven?” I have thought of this so much as I was reading and thinking about prayer. We as Christians have an Internet that reaches heaven. We don’t need to pay $9.95 a month or watch our hours of usage, and the line is never tied up. We can get through to God and we can be sensitive to his leading to pray for others. Have you ever wondered why someone comes to your mind that you haven’t seen in years? I have a little note card that says, “God brought you to mind today.” Let’s be the support group – the Internet – for each other and pray one for another. Because we can pray without ceasing… and prayer changes things.