When Children Pray

It was another late night at the Emergency Room.  He broke out in hives something awful, and they were spreading fast, moving their way up to his face, so they told us to come in and we did.  Drug reaction, they said.  But because there's a serious infection in his little body they needed to make sure strong meds were doing their job.  So they perscribed an antibiotic that would be given as a shot.  It looked like a horse shot, so big they split it in two.  One in the muscle of each thigh and he begged and pleaded, No, when he saw it coming.  But the nurses advanced, and I wanted to cry, till he yells, "Mama, PRAY!"  Then everything stopped.  

We bowed our heads and held tight to one another, which felt like holding on to Jesus.  And we reminded our Savior how much He loves Brody and asked Him to be close and make this go fast, and use these shots to heal Brody's body quickly.  Then we said Amen.




So be it, and it was done.  Though he couldn't walk afterward, his muscles swollen from the injection.  So I carried him to the car at midnight, then drove him home and laid him down in bed.  I stroked his hair and sleep came fast, and the words, "Mama, Pray!"  pierced my heart with sorrow and joy.


This is the boy who yells it when he has the stomach flu, between wretches.  Barf... "Mama. Pray!"... Barf. And when we walked a beach in Hawaii and came upon a cave, and the other two ran fast for the gaping mouth that drank sea water, again he stopped and said it privately, "Mama, Pray."


Of course I would do just about anything to protect this child from pain and fear, and you would do it all for your kids too... but trials are the anointed fires where faith is refined.  Where we learn to holler, Pray!  And we learn to pray like a conversation in the pain, at every turn when fear and misery come fast.  And then when relief floods, Mama's there like the one leper who ran back to Jesus and said Thank You.


Thank You!


And he's learning that too. The pleas for help and the sprints back to a Savior's side when the pain subsides.


I love prayer.  And I love the One who I lift them too.  And I love each blessed, anointed trial that teaches my children to love it too.