Where is God When You Feel Helpless?

by Betsy Veneziano, as told to Leanne Shawler

My Dad was on home hospice this past summer. He lives in Maine. I had already seen him a couple of times in 2011 but I was waiting for the call that the end was near so I could go back to Maine.

The night my Mom called me and said that the hospice nurses had noticed some change and they thought that the end was near -- that was the exact same day Hurricane Irene kicked up and all flights to the east coast were canceled.

I couldn’t get a flight for five days. 

It had always been in the back of my mind to wonder how long it would take to get back if there was an emergency. If it happened in the winter, there is always the snow and getting back to Maine then is horrible. If he passes away in the summer, no problem.

Who would’ve thought that a hurricane would affect Maine?

I couldn’t get a flight. I felt extremely frustrated and helpless because there was not a darn thing I could do to get there.

I also had this nagging in my head. I was really bothered by the fact that no clergy person had been to visit Dad. My Mom was an every Sunday type of person, but he didn’t go to church. He was always willing to help out, especially with carpentry. If the old rundown church needed work he was there to work on projects.

It’s a small town, so the clergy person at the Congregational church knows my family and everyone knows everybody. 

But nobody had visited him, which bothered me very much, because when I’m on my death bed, somebody better be praying over me!

I couldn’t go in person, but this was one thing I could do. So I called the minister of the Congregational church and asked her why she hadn’t been to see him and if she would go and see him.

She was so nice.  The reason she hadn’t been was because she’d been waiting to be asked, knowing that my Mom was a very private person.  So, a miscommunication. 

I said to her, “I know my Dad never went to church,” and she interrupted me. “Oh, he went to church. He just went when no one else was there.” 

She went to see him, read him some scriptures and prayed with him. I think she gave him what he needed to let go. She thanked him for all his work and how much the church had appreciated his time and talents ... and he died that night.

I felt so good that she was able to make that visit for me, just in time. Maybe the nagging to contact her was God letting me know that Dad needed something.

How has God answered your prayer when you’ve felt frustrated and helpless?