The prayers lifting Nichalas/Amber up yesterday, during his surgery, did more than grant a successful surgery. They also touched my heart and opened my eyes to see where I need to grow. And to let go.
The mom in me wanted nothing more than to be there with them. Not that I have the medical expertise to add to the situation. Not that I have super powers to prevent anything "bad" from happening. Not that I could take his place. I just wanted to be there.
To see his face, hear his voice. hug. To be with Amber in the waiting area and help ease her fears and concerns. To protect them.
Confession.
Prayers for Nichalas/Amber opened my eyes to the fact that in my wanting to protect them, it hinders them from growing. It gets in the way of "their" moments. "their" trials. "their" tribulations. And even, "their' celebrations.
Prayers reminded me (again), our children are no longer children.
And they aren't, nor have they ever, been mine.
"The prayer of a person living right with God is something powerful to be reckoned with."
Thank you for praying. You who are "living right with God". Because of your prayers, your living by His standards, I am being molded into what He designed me to be. He is removing the garments that aren't His, which I have put upon myself.
I stand amazed at how praying works. At how it touches everyone, not just one.
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