Because They Prayed

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Recently, there were two small drops of blood on my jeans that I couldn’t take my eyes off of. They were from an early morning of medical chaos that erupted when my mother experienced renal failure, sepsis, and critical life-saving care.

My sweet mama was fighting for her life while we prayed with everything we had for God to spare her. And all I could think about while looking at those drops of blood was the life they represented. A life that was lived so well and so fully from a heart fixed on Jesus. During this event, we pleaded for God’s intervention and miraculous healing.

The weekend started like most others, with fatigue from a busy work week, but excitement was brewing in our hearts for our upcoming Easter celebrations. Mama was excited to help at our annual church egg hunt and watch my grandson, Jack, hunt Easter eggs. She has a servant’s heart and faithfully works behind the scenes almost everywhere she goes. She doesn’t like attention or credit.

In fact, she minimizes her own efforts and elevates others’ to deflect the credit she so deserves. But on that morning, she didn’t show up to help as expected. She was in the ER by lunch, having tests and procedures to determine the problem, but her health only worsened throughout the day and into the night. Around 3 a.m. on Sunday morning, she was rushed into surgery for a blockage that was obstructing her only kidney, but she declined rapidly after surgery. In desperation, we gathered around her bedside and begged God for an earthly healing.

See, my parents taught us where to go in times of need.

When storms came, we prayed. When sickness came, we prayed. When we needed rain for Daddy’s crops, we prayed. When God sent rain, we prayed. When mama was diagnosed with cancer three times, we prayed. When Daddy was in a terrible accident, we prayed. At breakfast, lunch, dinner, and bedtime, we prayed.

So when mama needed healing, we went to the Father who had faithfully heard and answered our many prayers before. My parents taught us to know Jesus, talk to Jesus, and have a history with Jesus. A history of recognizing the faithfulness of our Almighty God through prayer.

I honestly can’t think of anything better to teach your kids, because every parent knows they can’t be present in every circumstance or available for every need of life. Parents can’t fix every mess, heal every sickness, or provide answers to all of life’s mysteries, but parents can point their children to the One who can. Jesus is our hope, our help, our healer, our guide, and He will never leave us alone.

If you’re a parent, love Jesus with your whole heart and don’t miss the precious opportunities you have to point your children to Jesus. When they genuinely see Christ in you, they’ll know where to turn when life gets tough. He’ll be their rock and fortress, their peace in the storm, and they’ll look back and be thankful you pointed them to Him. I’m certainly thankful that mine did.

So I’m hugging my sweet mama more tightly today and praising God for healing her earthside. And when our family gathers together, we’ll bow our heads in prayer once again and continue pointing the next generation to Jesus.

Hear my cry, O God, listen to my prayer; from the end of the earth I call to you when my heart is faint. Lead me to the rock that is higher than I, for you have been my refuge, a strong tower against the enemy (Psalm 61:1-3).

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