More Pray

“Out of the mouths of babes.”

If you are a pray-er, it is more likely than not that you have had those times when you have prayed and prayed until you didn’t know what else to pray.  If you haven’t experienced it yet–hold on–that day will come.  It comes to us all…

I have four children and survived childhood injuries, the teenage years, and the “letting go” as they went away to college and married.  But nothing could prepare me for my children and grandchildren living in a Third World country. Not only is it FAR away, it’s difficult and expensive to get there.

Electricity is sporadic, but communication is relatively good when they have power, thanks to the internet.  We don’t connect with them every day of course, and the in-between days can be the hardest.

Many days of trying not to worry, prayer constantly in my mind and heart.  News.  No news.  Fear.  Trust.


And more prayer.  To the point that I was sure that in the last 24 hours I had actually prayed everything that I could think of to pray, but still felt anxious.

And then God showed up.

He spoke to me through a baby.  A 20 month old.

We were playing and laughing, but my heart was still hurting.  In my “girls” room where she naps, I was changing her diaper when she saw all of our grandbaby’s pictures on the wall.  She always points and names them one by one, this time causing Nana to tear up again thinking of her Madagascar babies and the struggles the family were experiencing.

So I said to Stella, “Can Nana pray?”

She said, “Stella pray.”

So of course I let her do the praying.

She clasped her hands together, and I led her in a simple prayer, one word at a time.

“Jesus”.  “please”. “help”. “Uncle”. “Fletch”. “Amen”.

And I felt it.

She asked, “More pray!”

So we did.

“Jesus”. “please”. “help”. “Auntie”. “Em”. “Amen”.

And again, and again, and again, we prayed.

“More pray!”, said baby Stella, until we had prayed for them all.

For at least fifteen minutes that baby girl wanted to pray.

And I felt better.  Calmer.

I could never conjure this feeling up.  Only the Holy Spirit could do this.  He brought peace and my heart settled.  The joy returned.  Not just because my sweet granddaughter prayed simple prayers, but because those simple prayers reminded me that HE.IS.HERE.

AND.HE.IS.THERE.  Of course I know that.  It’s just that sometimes, we moms just need that fact to find its way from our head into our heart.

Oh, and on my way home, I just happened to turn on the radio, and this was the song that was playing:

Of course I know that He didn’t “just show up”–He is always here, waiting for us, desiring for us to come to Him.  To let Him hold us.

And this sweet baby girl doesn’t really understand how prayer works.

Or does she?

Faith of a Child

She just knows that we pray.  It’s what we do.  It’s how we talk to God.

And He hears.

People brought babies to Jesus, hoping he might touch them. When the disciples saw it, they shooed them off. Jesus called them back. “Let these children alone. Don’t get between them and me. These children are the kingdom’s pride and joy. Mark this: Unless you accept God’s kingdom in the simplicity of a child, you’ll never get in.”  Luke 18:16 The Message



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