Before the lights go out at bedtime we always say prayers, and this particular night he chose the five-finger prayer card that rests on his nightstand. We focused on the ring finger: “My ringer finger is weak and cannot stand alone well. Pray for the weak and sick.”
The wheels turned in my son’s mind as he thought with extra care about who fit into this category.
“Daddy. We can pray for Daddy because his spinal cord is hurt.”
My mama heart welled up with emotion knowing that the thought was all his. The childlike faith the Bible describes came alive in my very own child that night. He prayed for God to heal his daddy’s body.
When we finished praying I tucked him in, kissed him goodnight, and left his room with watered eyes.
If my five-year-old believes in miracles, so can I. If my five-year-old has faith, so can I.
Lately I’ve been in this season where’s it’s felt like the enemy is trying to snuff out my faith—my faith that our little family will grow, that my writing will bear good fruit, that relief will come from the struggles, that God will provide a way where it seems like there is no way…
“For we walk by faith, not by sight.” ~ 2 Corinthians 5:7 (ESV)
I can only see the details that have already happened on my canvas of life, but God sees the final canvas. He knows how my story will unfold and how beauty will rise and how things will work together for good. Even when the circumstances of my life don’t make sense, even when I walk through a dark valley, even when my prayers are answered differently than I hoped for…
When my faith is in Jesus and what He has done for me, when eyes are on Him, I have unshakable hope.
When I start to look down like Peter did after He got out of the boat (Matthew 14:28-31), I start to sink in a sea of problems. Peace washes away, joy drifts to bottom of the ocean, and discouragement bubbles up to the surface.
But when my faith is in the One whose plans for me are good, I can sing it is well with my soul even when storms come.
And sometimes I need to look no further than the sweet face of my son, my miracle child who reminds me daily that God can do anything. When I can’t give him an answer he’s searching for he says, “Well, God knows.” He’s the child who has faith enough to pray for his daddy’s healing, while still thinking Daddy’s wheelchair is cool.
As much as I do my best to teach my little boy and train him up in the way he should go, he’s teaching me too.
Faith is not something that can be forced; it’s a choice to believe in the unseen. And when we chose to come before our Heavenly Father in faith, praying a prayer for the first time or one we’ve prayed a thousand times…
Our childlike faith is a sweet, sweet sound in His ear.