Have you ever prayed a Hail Mary prayer?

You’ve prayed over and over for God to do something, but nothing’s changed. You’re down to your last shot (at least that’s how it feels). You’re ready to throw out the fleece, fight Goliath, part the sea, feed the multitudes, stop the storm, walk on water—whatever miracle you feel like you need.

If God doesn’t do it, then there’s your answer. It’s a Hail Mary prayer.

I was reminded of one of my Hail Mary prayers recently. 

My Grandmom passed away this month, and I was honored to write her obituary. My dad wanted it to be from a personal perspective. I immediately googled obituary examples, having never written one. It crossed my mind to find my Granddad’s, her late husband, who passed unexpectedly in 2018. I was quickly pulled back into the darkest season of my life thus far.

2018 sucked—there’s no way around it. I wrote a little about it here, though not the full story (which I may never share). But in the midst of realizing my marriage might be ending, my granddad got sick. Not the kind of sick that usually ends in death, but it was what seemed like a straight-forward infection. But after battling it for almost a year, his body was tired from the fight and began to go into failure.

At this point in my marriage, separation was already on the table, there was an unwillingness to seek help, and I was alone in trying to salvage it. I was going to the hospital any chance I could to be with my family. Granddad was conscious but on the ventilator and unable to verbally communicate. I remember holding his hand as he squeezed his answers to my “yes” or “no” questions. When I tried to leave to let others come in, he shook his head. I knew he didn’t want to be alone. He had so much left to say to us. He wasn’t ready for this to be the end.

One afternoon, I stopped by to see him after the gym. He was awake as I talked to him and touched his arm. As I was preparing to leave, two tears fell from the corner of his eye as he shook his head. Before I walked out, I prayed my Hail Mary prayer. I had yet to pray specifically for Granddad’s complete healing. I was focused on his comfort and praying for “God’s will to be done,” because anything more felt like too much. I used to be afraid to pray big prayers and ask for miracles because I didn’t want to look stupid. But here I was, ready to ask for something big.

“God, if you will heal him, I know you will heal my marriage.”

I threw out the fleece. It was a pretty stupid prayer, but it was my Hail Mary. I wanted to know God could heal. I wanted a little more to keep going on. The exhaustion was kicking in, and I just wanted God to fix it all.

I was wrestling with this in my journal just days before: “If I pray hard enough, try hard enough, love hard enough, God will heal my marriage. But He might not. Faith isn’t the ticket to a happy life or better circumstance. Sometimes God doesn’t work the way you ask him to. And it’s not because you don’t have enough faith or He isn’t a big enough God.”

But here I was faced with another impossible circumstance hoping God would show up in the way I wanted Him to so that I would know He could do it in all of my impossible situations. So I threw my Hail Mary.

Not even 10 minutes later, I was leaving the hospital when the doctors called us back in a hurry. Granddad was passing. It was chaos as everyone tried to get into the room. But as soon as I saw his face, I knew he was no longer there. My Grandmom was inconsolable. Her words, “what am I going to do without him” still echo in my mind. The love they had for each other was never more evident than in that moment.

But here I was, knowing I didn’t have that in my marriage, knowing my husband was more than willing to live without me, knowing God chose not to heal my granddad and grant my Hail Mary prayer.

Looking back, He did answer my prayer. Now, He didn’t answer it how I asked it, but my marriage did end. And that season in the hospital with my granddad was pivotal in my coming to terms with that reality.

Revisiting all of this with my Grandmom’s passing was difficult. I don’t love looking back to that season. However, the difference between that season and this season is astounding.

Today I have a partner who showed up multiple times to help clean out their house when Grandmom moved into assisted living. I didn’t have to ask him to attend the funeral or interact with my family during visitation. I wasn’t expected to tiptoe around his feelings while dealing with my own grief. I know that seems pretty basic for a marriage, but it wasn’t my first experience.

Know this:

When God redeems something, He doesn’t miss anything.

This is what I’m learning these days. He redeems things down to the studs. Nothing is missing. And it was His kindness to take me back to 2018 and show me all the ways He’s still redeeming my story.

While I don’t recommend Hail Mary prayers, God still hears them. He knows the heart behind them. Even better than that, He knows what you actually need and will provide it in time.

God showed me this passage back then:

“Come on, let’s go back to God.

    He hurt us, but he’ll heal us.

He hit us hard,

    but he’ll put us right again.

In a couple of days we’ll feel better.

    By the third day he’ll have made us brand-new,

Alive and on our feet,

    fit to face him.

We’re ready to study God,

    eager for God-knowledge.

As sure as dawn breaks,

    so sure is his daily arrival.

He comes as rain comes,

    as spring rain refreshing the ground.”

Hosea 6:1-3 MSG

It felt like a blow when I didn’t get the answer I wanted. It hurt so bad. But it was only the beginning of the healing God was preparing to pour into my life. I didn’t feel it then, but there was a “but” coming. But He’ll heal us—He’ll put us right again. He will.

So if you’re throwing up Hail Mary prayers right now, I get it. God does too. Keep talking to Him, keep pressing in, keep studying who He is. You probably won’t see it now, but one day you will be brand-new looking back on all that God has redeemed.