When he was about three years old and his sister was five, I was coming down the stairs. I started to slip and grabbed the railing. My arm got caught in a funny position while my body kept going. I thought I broke my arm. I couldn't believe the pain. My son came running up the stairs. I was being very brave and tried not to panic in front of a three year old. I reassured him I was fine.
This was my son Tommy's reaction:
Tommy: "Lisa hurry up, we got to pray!"
My daughter came quickly and both of them laid hands on me. Their prayers were simple and lasted about thirty seconds, but it was enough. I looked at them and thanked them. Now mind you their faith was considerably more than mine at that moment. I was just so proud that my son sprung into action and got his sister to help.
I got up and immediately my arm felt better. There was no bruise (and I tend to bruise very easily). There was no pain or discomfort. I couldn't believe it.
In reading Debbie’s post, a fond memory came to mind. I needed to remember that today. I needed to remember the goodness of God and how a simple prayer goes a long way.
© Nadine Z. 2008