A Blog by Jason Salamun

Not too long ago, I preached on fear and anxiety.

Weeks later, I was full of fear and anxiety.

As the neurologist looked at my MRI, he saw the problem.

“Looks like you’ve got a ruptured disc between your c6 and c7 vertebrae in your neck that’s hitting a nerve.”

He then went on to tell me,

“What we’re going to do is make an incision in your throat, take out the disc, fuse the two vertebrae together, and screw in some metal plates.”

He then began to talk about the risks and the slight potential of being paralyzed from the neck down.

This wasn’t exactly great news, but it was what he said next that caught me off-guard.

He began discussing the greater chance that I could experience the loss of my voice because of the procedure.

It could be permanent, it could be long-term, it could return raspy, or most likely, once the swelling dies down, it could return to normal.

Not what you want to hear when your voice is your livelihood.

Now, I could lie, act all super spiritual, and tell you that I immediately trusted God and left the neurologists’ office without a care in the world.

But the truth is, I walked to my car, closed the door, laid my head on the steering wheel, and wept.

I was afraid.

The idea of losing my voice felt like losing a friend.

It hurt.

I’m sure you, a reasonable reader, can probably determine that the odds of losing my voice is quite small, yet that’s the very thing I chose to focus on.

Worrying has a way of turning a pebble into Pikes Peak.

Not in reality, but in our minds.

And that’s what was happening to me.

Most of my hopes and dreams involve my ability to speak.

So I prayed.

I prayed that God would let me keep my voice.

As I prayed, the thought occurred to me, “What if God doesn’t want me to have a voice?”

Perhaps He doesn’t?

Perhaps He does?

Then a bigger question popped into my mind, or rather, my heart:

“Do you trust me?”

That’s the real question I’ve been wrestling with.

I know the right answer…

“Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God.” (Phil. 4:6)

…and I’m learning to live in light of it.

In a couple of weeks, I’ll go in for the neck fusion surgery.

I’m ready to have this great pain in my neck, shoulders, and back removed.

I’m looking forward to the numbness in my left arm to be gone and to feel my fingers again.

And I’m hoping my voice returns.

Who knows, it might even be smoother and sexier than ever.

But the greater surgery is what’s happening in my heart.

God taking his rightful place.

My hopes resting in my Great Hope.

Not in my voice or anything else.

Just him.

I know He loves me.

I know He’s mighty.

I know He’s in control.

It’s time to live like I do.

One of my favorite musical artists is Leonard Cohen.

He wrote a song titled, “If It Be Your Will” (Listen)

I’ve always loved it, and in this moment of my life, it’s taken on a deeper meaning.

Perhaps it will resonate with you as well.

‘If It Be Your Will” by Leonard Cohen

If it be your will
That I speak no more
And my voice be still
As it was before

I will speak no more
I shall abide until
I am spoken for
If it be your will

If it be your will
That a voice be true
From this broken hill
I will sing to you

From this broken hill
All your praises they shall ring
If it be your will
To let me sing

From this broken hill
All your praises they shall ring
If it be your will
To let me sing

If it be your will
If there is a choice
Let the rivers fill
Let the hills rejoice

Let your mercy spill
On all these burning hearts in hell
If it be your will
To make us well

And draw us near
And bind us tight
All your children here
In their rags of light

In our rags of light
All dressed to kill
And end this night
If it be your will

If it be your will

Amen

A couple of years ago, my daughter asked to go for a walk.  We went outside, I reached down my hand to her, and she reached up her hand to mine.  As I glanced down I was struck by this image.  I thought, “What a picture of God and us!”

I pondered this image more and began to see how it was also a beautiful illustration of prayer.  Jesus tells us in Matthew 6 to pray to Our Father.  His hand is always there reaching down to us and all we need to do is reach our hand up to him…and walk.

I love what Dallas Willard said in his great book, The Divine Conspiracy. “I believe the most adequate description of prayer is simply, Talking to God about what we are doing together. That immediately focuses the activity where are but at the same time drives the egotism out of it. Requests will naturally be made in the sharing with God my concerns about what he too is concerned about in my life. And of course he is concerned about my concerns and, in particular, that my concerns should coincide with his. This is our walk together. Out of it I pray.”

The scriptures say, “pray continuously.”  In the rhythm of our life, as we go, all the time. Taking hold of our Father’s strong, yet loving hand, and walking, talking, asking, confessing, venting, and listening.  A divine conversation so to speak.

Let me encourage you to take hold of your Father’s waiting hand and walk (pray).

It’s the most supernatural act we can partake in.

For more on prayer, you can listen to a recent message I gave at Project Church.