When I was little, I was terrified of thunderstorms. Something about the rumbling and the vibrations I felt just totally freaked me out. Although I knew it was ridiculous, I tried to convince myself that it was just God moving furniture around. And if that didn’t work, then I told myself God was bowling. I tried everything.
I’ve heard this sweet story for years: apparently one summer when I was about 4 or 5 years old, Tulsa was in desperate need of rain. (Go figure, it still is.) And so I clasped my little hands together and squeezed my eyes shut and prayed; “Oh, Lord God, Jesus Christ, send the rain! No thunder, no lightning, just rain!”
My first response was to go to God. I love that, I knew He had the solution. I don’t remember if He did send the rain, but I imagine He did knowing the power of the sincere and precious prayers of children.
I’ve heard Jaxon pray for rain and we’ve gotten it. I’ve heard Jaxon pray for snow and we’ve gotten it. In fact, I can’t help but think my son prayed in the Snowpocalypse of 2011 himself . . . you see, he seriously wanted a few snow days. Boy, did he get them.
So what is the point I’m trying to make? I have no point, i just wanted to tell you a cute story.
Hope you’re enjoying your Friday night. Mine is blissfully quiet.