A Daughter's Faith
Sometimes it is the faith of a child, with no regard of the impossible that is the most powerful of all.
Is this the faith that the Bible speaks of? Come to me as a child and just believe.
My daughter was going to Washington D.C. on a school field trip. Preparing for the trip the students saw a documentary about the Unnamed Soldiers Grave, a grave site dedicated to all the soldiers that died for our country, yet couldn’t be found.
This touched her immensely, as every night for the past two years, at the end of our prayers, she prayed, “Dear God keep all the soldiers warm and safe. Help their families not miss them, and bring them home.”
I have always been amazed at her heartfelt compassion, as I never prodded any of her prayers. These prayers were straight from the heart.
‘Mom,” she said earnestly, “they are going to pick someone to lay a reef on the soldier’s grave. I want them to pick me.”
“Well honey, how many children are they choosing from?” I questioned, preparing her for the reality of the impossible.
“Eighty eight.” She said confidently, not grasping what I was gently trying to tell her.
“If they pick me, I need to have my shirt ironed. There can’t be one wrinkle in it, because it shows dishonor and disrespect. So, can you iron it for me?”
“Of course, honey” I futilely responded ironing away. Doesn’t she get that one in eighty eight odds, is just not going to happen? Using basic math skills and a heaping dollop of doubt, I didn’t want to get her hopes up when they called another name. So, I had to prepare her for the truth. “Do you think that one in eighty eighty is a good chance?” Okay, this has to bring some reality into the picture.
“Maybe mom, if we pray. So, let’s be sure my shirt is perfectly pressed.”
I kissed her good-bye, as she waved in her perfectly pressed white shirt, feeling as proud as any mother could be. My little girl, so confident, so full of belief, off to Washington D.C.
Okay, what do I do now? She still has hope, and I have none. I need to pray, not just an ordinary prayer, but a really big one for my little girl.
I drug out two chairs, and placed each one side by side at the end of the hallway.
One chair for Father God, and the other for Jesus. I didn’t want to pray from my cozy place on earth, I wanted to go directly to the Throne Room.
I knelt before the chairs, and started my prayer.
“Father God, Lord Jesus, I am coming to you in the Throne Room, laying a request before you. My daughter loves the soldiers, she has been praying for them for two straight years . She wants to lay a reef on their grave, and she believes that she will be chosen. I know this is almost impossible. And I confess she has more faith than her unbelieving mother. She really believes that she will be chosen, and I don’t want her hurt. But I am coming to you, and asking,"
‘Will you do this for her? Will you make the impossible happen? If there is anything I have done to please you, will you take that as an offering for this request. Amen.”
Tomorrow was the day, that one student would lay the reef on the grave, so they would choose today who that would be.
The phone rang, it was my sweet daughter. My heart was already going out to her when, suddenly, “Mom they picked me!”
I screamed, I jumped up and down, in the aisle of T.J.Max. “they picked her, they picked her! God, thank-you, thank-you, thank-you." Still in a world of wonder that such a small prayer mattered to God.
“Would you do anything for your daughter? Don’t you think I would do anything for you?
My love for you is immeasurable. Your smallest desire is my greatest concern.
Yes, the odds of 1 in 88 are nearly impossible.
But coming to me with a simple request the odds are 100 percent that I will give it to you.
And yes, you have done something to please Me beyond measure, it was the day you were born.’
-Lisa Hamilton/ The Hamilton Post