Jeremy L. Berg

We sat in a sacred circle with a chair placed in the center. Myself and about a dozen other pastors were on retreat at St. Mary of the Lake north of Chicago back on October 8-13. We each took a turn sitting in the “hot seat” where we held a candle in our lap and fellow retreatants extended their hands and prayed over us. Our retreat leader invoked our imaginations saying, “As you pray for the person in the chair, visualize the light from the candle slowly spreading and eventually filling their entire body with God’s healing power and presence.”

A powerful image.  A timely image.  A fortuitous or providential image.

After everyone had had their time in the “prayer chair,” and as the music continued to play, I turned my attention to the now empty chair and was surprised to see, in my imagination, my son Isaak now seated in the center of the circle, holding the light of Christ in his hands! I held back tears as I allowed myself to “go with it.” God was giving me a message.

A few days earlier at the beginning of the retreat, we were given a heavy stone and asked to write a word or phrase on the stone giving name to a particular “burden” we may have brought with us on the retreat. The retreat leaders promised to pray for and literally help carry these burdens around with them in their pocket during the week. On my rock I simply wrote, “My son’s anxiety.” I was referring to Isaak. 

Back in the circle, I imagined Isaak’s body slowly being filled with the healing light and strength of Christ—until the light became dazzlingly bright and caused me to shield my eyes. Tears ran down my cheek as the Holy Spirit was in this moment reassuring me that our anxious child Isaak was the object of God’s love and care, and that “God’s power [will be] made perfect in [Isaak’s] weakness” (2 Cor. 12:9). 

This powerful experience took place on October 12, exactly 10 days before I would rush Isaak to the Emergency Room to begin this harrowing journey. Coincidence or providence? 

That special week-long retreat in Illinois was long in the works, and I could have brought many other particular burdens to that sacred circle and written any number of “issues” on that rock. But it has been Isaak’s struggles with anxiety that have tugged most strongly on my father heart of late. Was God preparing me for this experience ahead of time? Did God give me that enduring image of Isaak’s body being filled with Christ’s healing light ahead of time to provide assurance in the moments where things would become so dark? 

Another way this retreat prepared me for this ordeal was the gift of a new friend named Mary. Mary is a spiritual director and intercessory prayer warrior from the East Coast who connected with me over my burden for Isaak and committed to praying for Isaak in the days following the retreat. Before leaving the retreat, I sent Mary a photo of Isaak to guide her prayers. It’s the same photo now used for his profile on his Caring Bridge today. (See photo of me and my fellow retreatants, with Mary just below me.) 

Yes, little did Mary and I know then how much we would be needing her intercessory prayers in the coming days. For the past 23 days, Mary has quietly (and not so quietly) been texting me prayers of assurance—both from her and from an entire team of intercessors around the country I’ve never met. Her words have often come in the dark hours of the night, just the right words and at just the right time. I have confided in her with some of my darkest thoughts at some of the darkest moments. Was our friendship that began just 10 days before this trial began coincidence or providence? 

Prayer confounds me at times—and I’m a pastor! I struggle with prayer despite being “professionally trained” in the praying arts. :) If you can relate, let me share one helpful suggestion to help your prayer life grow a notch or two. My suggestion is to move beyond mere words—audible and inaudible—and try to bring your other senses into your prayers. “Imaginative prayer” or visualization can add concreteness and potency to your otherwise drifty and half-hearted prayers. 

For 23 days I have had few word-prayers, but I can still draw comfort meditating on that image of Isaak seated in the center of that prayer circle, holding that candle over his soon-to-be torn and twisted bowels, trusting the healing light of Christ will soon be slowly filling every nook and cranny of his tired body. 

I brought that “Christ candle” from the retreat to the hospital a couple weeks ago and set it in the center of the room during one of the darkest moments of this journey. Today I shared this entire story with Isaak and have invited him to occasionally look at the candle and visualize every organ of his body glowing with renewed health (see photo).

INVITATION: I want to invite you to do the same this week. Light a candle at home or at work and let it represent God’s healing light. As a family or on your own, during meal time or bed time or whenever you glance at it, spend a moment praying for and visualizing Isaak’s body slowly being filled with the light of renewed health. 

“The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it” (John 1:5).

“No one lights a lamp and then puts it under a basket. Instead, a lamp is placed on a stand, where it gives light to everyone in the house” (Matt 5:15).