Poppy is sick. He's my grandfather on my mom's side, the only living grandparent I have left, and he's been an intricate part of my entire upbringing. After not getting better from a mis-diagnosis of what they thought was pneumonia, he's been admitted to the hospital for what looks to be heart and kidney complications. The doctor came in to share that he has "a lot of things going on" and said a few words that had the potential to alter the rest of Poppy's life, along with a harsh reality for the rest of us listening in the hospital room.
E desperately wanted to see Poppy and even promised, "Mom, I won't touch him." I explained that he was simply too young to go to the hospital, whether or not he touched him. But at bedtime we read the story of Elijah and the widow's flour & oil. He was thrilled the bible character bore the same name as him. As I explained the prophet Elijah prayed to God for a miracle he reminded me we needed to pray for Poppy.
I started the prayer "Dear Jesus, thank you for today..." I paused waiting for him to join in but he interrupted the prayer, "Mom, don't forget we have to pray for God to make Poppy better." I knew it was at the forefront of his mind. So we prayed for Poppy. I listened to the tender words of a little boy trusting God to help Poppy not be sick anymore and asking for him to come home from the hospital.
We said Amen and he immediately asked, "Is Poppy better?" This childlike faith believed in the immediacy of the answer to our request. For him, there was no question that our prayer had made Poppy better. Why wouldn't it? We asked God so Poppy must be better. At least that's what my four-year-old believed.
"Let's call him," he suggested. He wanted to talk to Poppy.
Over the phone he shared sincere words, the sentiments of a child adoring his great grandfather, saying he loved him and prayed for him. And then he asked, "Poppy, are you still sick?" Poppy said yes and to keep praying, to which the faith of a child quickly responded, "I just did!"
I caught myself thinking, "Sweet little boy, it just doesn't work that way..." and then I stopped my own thought process. "Why doesn't it?" Why had I not prayed with earnest belief so that at the moment of our "Amen" I would have wanted to rush to the phone to ask "Are you still sick?"
With sincere belief this little boy of mine was convinced that our prayer was all it would take to heal Poppy. And with sincere humility this mama was brought to my knees asking myself when was the last time I believed the same of God.
It reminds me of the song I sang as a child, "My God is so BIG. So strong and so mighty, there's nothing my God cannot do!"
Somehow with passing years and 'growing' maturity, I had lost the true essence of a God so BIG that nothing was impossible for Him.
It's my job to train up my child in the way he should go...and yet in this simple act of faith, I was being schooled by my preschooler.
Today we're still praying for Poppy to get better. But I'm not just saying a prayer - I'm earnestly believing in faith that my God is SO BIG there's nothing He cannot do!