April 2, 2006
So, about the prayers. . . the results of a scientific study attempting to determine whether the prayers of some, any, or all can cure or heal heart disease have been published. They announce that the 2.4 million dollar study shows that prayers did not change anything at all. The implication is that illnesses of all sorts would respond in the same fashion. Of course, the prayers designated included giving instructions “for successful surgery, a healthy recovery and no complications”. It is astonishing that serious folk decided to use one set of tools to measure an entirely different set of circumstances. (“I CAN determine the ingredients needed for this cake using measuring tape and scissors.”) Admittedly, I have engaged in this myself, giving God very specific instructions for taking care of various situations, and as time passes, I am relieved that my limited imagination wasn’t the guiding force of the outcomes.
Measuring the efficacy of prayer by scientific means must surely be like trying to carry the wind in a bucket, and when someone like myself says, “I just know it helps” there is nothing to quantify that statement. It’s like this. When the bully comes (the disease) and says, “So, who’s gonna stop me. . . you and who else?” the reply is “All of us” and instead of standing there alone, a huge company surrounds me, all joined together and very powerful. None of us know the details of the future, but moving forward in hope and trust and supported by an army most certainly makes a difference!
The book says that labrador retrievers love to fetch above all else, so we have purchased lots of items so designated at the Pet Shop. We bring them home, toss them past our Alphie and shout, “Fetch!” He watches the cute and colorful item pass him by with ill concealed disdain, then goes to the nearest deadfall and yanks and pulls at a very large branch, to the sound of rending and cracking wood. He brings his selection back to us as if to say, “Here, this is what real dogs fetch”. Game’s over, because it is too difficult to toss a four foot long, multi-branched hunk of dead wood any distance to speak of; I fear we are a great disappointment to him in this aspect of his otherwise ideal dog’s life.