I was freaked out about two of my adult children today. You see, I heard them fighting.
I was hurrying out to protect my adult disabled daughter (the way no one had me when I was her age)…
****not to assume that she needed protecting (as I once had at her age.) ****(hmmm.note to self– talk to my therapist about that later.)
I heard God tell me (however that works, I got an impression or saw a picture of things happening)
Not to get in the middle of their argument
- not to rush to the rescue, just be quiet for a minute
- not to assume that she needs protecting (as I once had at her age)
- not to rush in to right the wrongs of the 🌎 just yet
So I listened. (Ummm…hard-won lesson)
- I prayed the blood of Jesus over our home
- I prayed specifically for each kid (I mean loved one–they’re not kids anymore, at 19 and 21)
- I prayed that any plans of the enemy for this fight would boomerang on them and cut off his head.
Before long the emotionally charged verbage stopped, and I heard my husband’s voice, and shortly thereafter, the sound of relieved and hilarious laughter.
WWWHHHEEEEWWWW!!! That could have gone very badly.
I heard an earlier conversation with my best friend replaying in my head:
…About my job being to pray and counsel my children and listen to them during this stressful time in history and in our family.
…About that being my assignment during this season of being flat on my back–and an underrated assignment at that.
…about what I actually believe about prayer
- That the God of the universe is actually listening?
- That my prayers do actual damage to the enemy of our souls?
- That what I’m doing when I pray actually changes the course of human events?
- in short, that prayer matters?
Yes. I actually do.
I must put my money where mouth is.