With This Cup, We Do Battle...

By Michael Q. Pink

“And from the days of John the Baptist until now the kingdom of heaven suffers violence, and the violent take it by force.” (Matthew 11:12)

My wife lost the ability to communicate verbally several days ago, but during the night Sunday going into Monday morning, she talked incessantly in her sleep. I couldn’t understand her until early morning when I asked her what she was saying to which she simply replied, Praise the Lord! I tried a couple of times to confirm my understanding of her words and each time she clearly, but with difficulty, repeated the phrase, PRAISE THE LORD! It was obvious to me that my wife was on a spiritual plane far above mine at that moment! How she could find praise in the midst of the fiery furnace of physical affliction she is in is remarkable to me. But it gets better…

I am writing this Wednesday late afternoon after just experiencing something quite remarkable with Brenda that is highly instructive, at least to me. When we got Brenda up this morning, her teeth were clenched shut, her eyes were closed, her body limp. We moved her into the living room for a change of environment and to avoid bed sores. She was incapable of any response. Any water or ice put to her lips ran down her chin.

Then came another seizure. While disconcerting to say the least, the good thing was that it didn’t last long and it did unclench her teeth. Tami brushed Brenda’s teeth while I held her hand and all the while observed not the slightest bit of recognition or reaction from Brenda. We got Brenda comfortable and while Tami sat with her, I went across the street and let it pour out of me. The great sadness, the overwhelming sense of loss, the unanswered questions, the penetrating pain, the anguish of soul, the search for connection with God, the feeling of utter loneliness, the sense of false guilt, the total exhaustion of it all.

My pastor and friend, Steve Coder, arrived unexpectedly and we talked through a number of things, not really answering the unanswerable questions, but at least taking away their sting. Brenda was unable to acknowledge his presence when he went in to pray for her and then he and I went for a walk. We sat down at the lake across the street and I asked him to join me in a listening prayer where we listen for what God may be saying instead of petitioning Him for our needs.

After awhile, he had something he felt was from the Lord and we went back in the house to pray over Brenda again. It was at that time that I thought we needed to take communion to break through the spiritual opposition my pastor perceived. One can do great violence with the cup of communion when it’s not just a ritual!

I wanted to offer the sacraments and serve the communion to Tami, my pastor and Brenda, although I had no idea how she could partake, being totally unresponsive and only slightly awake. The first thing I did was tell Brenda how I had felt like such a hypocrite for praying over her earlier when on the inside I was a complete wreck. Who was I to offer prayers of faith when my inner condition was anything but mighty in faith? I told her how when those accusations raged in my mind, I suddenly realized that the enemy of my soul was the one feeding me them in an effort to dissuade me from praying further for Brenda.

Why would the spiritual opposition want to dissuade me from praying for Brenda if it was of no effect? It hit me like a ton of bricks that the devil fears those prayers, trembles at the name of Jesus and was trying to intimidate me into not praying anymore. What an idiot he is! I was fired up and faith arose. As I shared this with Brenda she managed to squeeze my arm as moisture filled her motionless eyes. In that moment something of the eternal nature of love transcended language and time and we both knew what we neither one could utter.

But then, after I broke the bread, Brenda with great deliberation and forcefulness, slowly and agonizingly in an act of defiance toward the powers of darkness, forced her hand toward mine and took the bread from me and began with trembling hand, to pull the bread toward her mouth. Her teeth were clenched, preventing her from inserting the bread but I was able to loosen her jaws enough for her to place the cracker in her mouth where she could bite down and rightly discern the body of Christ! The resolve it took for her to do that was remarkable. Pastor Steve said it forever changed how he will see communion! We were stunned at the spiritual violence she was doing in this simple act.

Lying on her side, she couldn’t drink from a cup so we dipped some gauze into the juice and let her partake by sucking on the gauze. What violence! What beauty! What faith! We closed out with prayer, laid Brenda on her back and she was out like a light. I don’t know what communion means to you, but clearly to Brenda it was truly partaking of the blood and the body of Jesus Christ and when she only had strength for one thing today, that was what she chose! I don’t know about you, but I will never take the cup lightly again! God bless you all my dear friends!