I felt her arms gently wrap around mine. She was so close I felt her heart beating when she spoke the words that would bring me to my knees.
We had just gone around the room as we do every Friday night; wrapping up our study and sharing prayer requests. It was a tough week on the East Coast as bombs went off at the finish line of the Boston Marathon. There was so much to pray about. Including praying for my cousin in Boston, a middle school teacher with two little’s. Her husband, a Sargent in the Boston PD.
We had been praying all week, from the moment the news broke there was a barrage of emails, texts, phone calls and Facebook notifications. My very large family is spread across the country and we were thinking about them as all eyes focused in on the city of Boston.
We had been praying all week, from the moment the news broke there was a barrage of emails, texts, phone calls and Facebook notifications. My very large family is spread across the country and we were thinking about them as all eyes focused in on the city of Boston.
It started that Monday afternoon. I didn’t know what was happening when my oldest called to ask if I had checked on our cousins. She had already called my aunt so I knew what she was really asking; she wanted to hear that I had prayed and we were going to be okay.
I immediately called my cousin and, with my team at work praying alongside me, I prayed for her and her children. I prayed for the peace of the Lord to rest on their home, in their hearts and minds. I prayed for healing for the injured, for their loved ones. I prayed for wisdom for government officials, for Dr’s and EMT’s. I prayed a circle of protection over my cousin’s husband and all of law enforcement.
I thought I had been pretty thorough in praying until that Friday night. It was all over the news. One of the bombers was killed, the younger brother (the same age as my oldest) was severely injured but finally apprehended. There was a sense of closure. We could all breathe because, for now at least, our family was okay and the nightmare was over.
I thought I had been pretty thorough in praying until that Friday night. It was all over the news. One of the bombers was killed, the younger brother (the same age as my oldest) was severely injured but finally apprehended. There was a sense of closure. We could all breathe because, for now at least, our family was okay and the nightmare was over.
That was, until my little one whispered her prayer request. She had been watching the news in her room.
“Mom?”, she said in the sweetest voice.
I felt her little arms wrap around my neck.
“Can you pray for him?”
I think the confusion was written all over my face as her bear hug pulled me close.
“He’s only 19. His brother is dead. He’s alone. He must be scared”.
Right then and there I knew what I had always suspected. My little one has a very different sense of justice than her momma. You see, for me, justice means we identify the bad guy, we get the bad guy and the bad guy pays.
But my little one, she’s more like Christ. Her sense of justice is filtered through something supernatural. Her simple request reminded me that we all fall short and desperately need God’s grace. And, for the first time since the explosion that shut down an entire city, I prayed for “the bad guy” and his family.
As I prayed I wondered about the pain his mom and dad must be feeling and, for a moment, I wondered if this is how my Heavenly Father feels when He’s looking down at me.
Does Jesus see me in all of my humanity, jaded by my life experiences, wrapped in fears and disappointments and say, “she had it coming!” or does He pray, “Father forgive her” when I slip and fall?
But my little one, she’s more like Christ. Her sense of justice is filtered through something supernatural. Her simple request reminded me that we all fall short and desperately need God’s grace. And, for the first time since the explosion that shut down an entire city, I prayed for “the bad guy” and his family.
As I prayed I wondered about the pain his mom and dad must be feeling and, for a moment, I wondered if this is how my Heavenly Father feels when He’s looking down at me.
Does Jesus see me in all of my humanity, jaded by my life experiences, wrapped in fears and disappointments and say, “she had it coming!” or does He pray, “Father forgive her” when I slip and fall?
I don’t want to debate justice. I don’t even want to have an opinion on world news. Tonight, I just want to share how grateful I am for God’s grace. I can request it and I can receive it. He catches me red-handed, slipping into my old ways and, instead of finding me guilty, He loves on me and wipes the slate clean.
I cherish the lessons I learn from my children. I love that God continually shows me a new way to pray for them and their purpose every time they show me Jesus.
Learning & Sharing as I journey to KNOW and reflect Him,
I cherish the lessons I learn from my children. I love that God continually shows me a new way to pray for them and their purpose every time they show me Jesus.