As part of my chemotherapy regimen, I requested intentions from friends, family and connections on social media. I would offer my treatment for them. Chemo scared me and I knew I wasn’t going to fare well through it if I didn’t offer it up in very concrete ways. The intentions poured in, I recorded each one in my “chemo notebook,” and began praying for them every day. This exercise strengthened me in ways I could not have expected.
The thing about chemo — I was completely prepared for nausea. Everybody knows nausea is a primary side effect of chemotherapy. As it turned out, I never got sick to my stomach. Not once.
What I was not prepared for was another possible side effect buried further down the list: bone pain. That, my friends, was grueling. There were days where all I could do was hug my notebook and beg the Holy Spirit to groan on my behalf. I could only lie there with ice packs and ibuprofen and wait for the pain to pass.
But one day between infusions, as I was sitting in adoration with my notebook, I looked to Jesus on the cross and asked him point blank: How do I pray for all of this when I’m in pain?
In my heart, I sensed this clear reply: Pray the way I did when I was in pain.
Suddenly, the last words of Christ took on fresh meaning and purpose. I thought immediately of what tradition holds as Christ’s first word from the cross: Forgive them, Father, they know not what they do. Then, having observed this extraordinary prayer, the good thief was moved to conversion — and in Christ’s second word, he promises the good thief salvation: Today, you will be with me in paradise.
Granted, it’s going to take me a year or two of praying regularly with this thought, pray the way I did, to fully glean what the Lord was trying to teach me, but at the very least I’ve come to understand two vital points.
One: When our Lord was suffering the greatest physical, emotional and spiritual pain of his life, his first thought was to ask for forgiveness on behalf of his persecutors. I turned to my chemo notebook and reviewed those intentions where forgiveness played a part. There were many. Going forward, on the days I was in the greatest pain, I kept repeating Christ’s words from the cross, begging the Lord to unleash forgiveness wherever it was needed.
Two: I can only imagine that the good thief heard our Lord begging the Father not for revenge, or retribution, or even justice, but for forgiveness, and any resistance that remained in him was melted. He was flooded with conversion graces that allowed him to recognize Jesus as Lord. How often do movements of forgiveness inspire conversion. The Lord’s reply — today, paradise — tells us the thief’s conversion was authentic. I went back to my chemo notebook and found the intentions that required conversion, some deeper recognition of Christ as Lord. There were many. Again, on the days I was in the worst pain, I begged the Lord to release the grace of conversion wherever it was needed.
Jesus is teaching me that as feeble as my pained prayer might be, he can grace it to powerful ends.
Father almighty, your son, Jesus, has taught us how to pray when we are in grave pain. Help us to remember that none of our suffering will go to waste if we offer it just as Jesus did, for forgiveness and conversion wherever it is needed. Amen.
Stanchina is the author of more than a dozen books including “A Place Called Golgotha: Meditations on the Last Words of Christ (WAUP 2023). Visit her website at lizk.org or follow her on Instagram at LizKToday.
