Saturday, February 12, 2011

Day 181: Little hands

The guy's truck said McBeans Decals. It was a catchy name. I don't know whether he was McBean or whether he just worked for him, but I waited until he was done washing the grime off his windows before I asked him my question. He looked at me kind of funny and said I could pray for him. But before he let me, he asked why I wanted to do it right then. I said it was my mission for the year to pray for one person a day. He said that was a good mission. So I prayed. And he shook my hand.

That was the rather ordinary part of the day. The extraordinary part was what happened earlier, in the hospital room of Mary's grandfather. As I've written before, he's been struggling to recover from a broken hip. All sorts of medical complications have come up. Today, he asked me to pray for him before we left. So I did. And then, as we continued small talking and without any prompting from any of us, our 4-year-old daughter asked her great-grandfather if she could pray for him. Seeing her standing there, her little hands together and her head bowed, praying that he would feel better, was the best feeling in the world. I will say that she's been consistent in remembering him in her prayers -- whether at the dinner table or before bed. But nothing can quite prepare you for the displays of faith that come from your little ones.

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