Faith, as I knew it, didn’t exist, and for the first time I doubted God. As a child I was told that God had the power to do anything at anytime; all I had to do is simply ask him. Through time, I misconceived the notions and by the age of 12 God was built up as a mixture of a genie and a super hero. I knew for a fact that “anything was possible though Christ.” So when I found out that my great-grandmother was diagnosed with pancreas cancer I knew that an effortless prayer could end this potentially terminal diseases.

Within minutes of my parents telling me about my grandmother’s sickness, I fell on my knees and began praying. “God I ask you to heal my grandmother,” I whispered, “And give her the strength to fight through this disease.” I heard many of my older family member tell stories of how God restored their health so I knew this would be an inconsequential task for God to take care of. Months and months went on, and I heard nothing about my grandmother’s health. For a while, I even forgot she had been diagnosed with cancer.

Then one day I ask my mom, “How’s Maw-maw doing?” She replied with a smile, “The doctor said the cancer is gone.” As anyone would do when they find out positive news, I laughed and gave a deep sigh of relief. She was hale and hearty again. When I saw my grandmother after I found out she was cancer free, I could do nothing but think, “It was me who asked God to restore her health!” For once on my life I felt responsible for something so substantial and yet positive. Now more than ever, my faith in God was unquestionable.

About two months later, my grandmother called a family breakfast. The only time we had family breakfast was when there was animosity between members of the family that needed to be resolved, someone was announcing their engagement, or there was an important idea that needed to be discussed. At the dinner everyone’s faces filled the room and loud greeting and laughs roamed around the room. Just as everyone had reached the core of their breakfast, the sound of silverware tapped rapidly against the crystal glass and got the attention of everyone in the room. “Everyone! Listen up! I have an announcement.” You can tell by the look on everyone’s face that they were expecting the best but prepared for the worst.

“My doctor said that the cancer is back and it’s spreading,” said my grandmother while she began to cry. Now I was confused. I thought that God had taken care of the devastating situation. The look on everyone’s face was identical. From the young children who were just old enough to understand what was going on to the older members of the family; everyone’s jaws dropped, eyes widen, and hearts were broken. The room grew completely silent.

As I sat there meditating on the information my Maw-Maw brought to the table, my train of thoughts vanished as I tried to understand what she said to us. I knew a prayer could change this, and I trusted in God once again because my first prayer was answered. Or so I believed. I asked my mother if I could be excused from the table and ran to the bathroom full speed. Before I could lock the door completely, I began praying so hard that tears rolled down my face. I didn’t even notice that I’d knelled down in a puddle of water because my adrenaline was rushing. “God! I’m asking you to do as you did before,” I began. “Take the cancer away for good, dear Lord”

My Maw-Maw overheard my overwhelming prayer, and she came in the restroom and checked on me. She assured me that she wasn’t doing to die, and the cancer would be gone within now time. Afterwards, I was certain that God heard my “whishes” and would answer our prayer.

As days went by, she lost weight, had no appetite. She weighed the same amount as me. My family became worried and we checked her back into the hospital just to be on the safe side. “Can God do any and everything I ask him to?” My Maw-Maw turned over toward me and said, “Boy, don’t you ever question God.” My face turned from sorrow into frantic shock.

At that age, it only made scene to think that God was this person who had the power to do all things, and all I had to do was ask him. I was never informed about praising him and worshiping him. All I knew was that he’s do anything for me. The only time I prayed was when I was in desperate need of a favor. I saw nothing drastic happening so I didn’t fell the need to pray.

The doctor released her, and she came home more active than ever. For the next two months, she was in and out of the hospital. I stayed home more often so I could be with her. As time passed, I grew closer to her. She became my best friend.
During this time, our family had almost forgotten she had cancer until one night her body just sat there. She had lost all of her memory and didn’t even know who I was. Within minutes, our house soon got crowded with family, and everyone worried. I tried to pray, but I could not concentrate. Our pale faces swallowed my grandmother’s presence. We held hands so tight that it grew painful to me, but I wasn’t letting go. At the time I didn’t know it, but she said her last words to me as she looked me in my eyes and whispered, “You’ve have five good sense; don’t forget.”

Cries and screams from family members filled the house when they saw the ambulance’s lights flash through the blinds and into the windowpane. We were back at the hospital once again. Side by side with my grandmother, I stared at the ceiling listening to the heart monitor. The sound that the monitor made slowly began to sound more frequently. This time, I refused to say a word to God because I knew he understood what was happening, and he did not come to my rescue. He watched her leave. He watched my family’s heart break. He watched my faith die.

The only thing I had to count on were “my five good scenes.”