Ephesians 3:20 Now to Him who is able to do exceeding abundantly beyond all that we ask for or think, according to the power that works within us.
As I look and reflect on this verse, God shows me something...
3:20.
March of 2020. Everything stopped, shut down, quarantined, distanced, masked up, stayed home. But according to several articles and observations, people's hearts have reopened back up, reconnected to their faith, found peace in this crazy pandemic through attending virtual church services, opening the Word of God in their new found time, reading more...just seeking for hope. I believe more people started to pray once again.
Here is an article I found from the Pew Research Center.
https://www.pewresearch.org/fact-tank/2020/04/30/few-americans-say-their-house-of-worship-is-open-but-a-quarter-say-their-religious-faith-has-grown-amid-pandemic/
I know one thing for myself, my prayers became more intense, more specific. I started the year letting go of a few things with intention, in order to seek God more, to pray and follow His will for my finished manuscript and for my family, my son in particular.
God exceeds all my wildest imaginary scenarios.
God's abundance overflows.
~~~
So many years ago, in our old home on Verdugo, (we left because of a fire in 2003) one of my desires was to build a pond in our backyard. I love gardening, and who doesn't love the sight and sound of cool running water over rocks and glistening pebbles attracting birds and dragonflys.
Where we now live, somehow, we collected things, were given things...like huge boulders, like a pond liner, like a space under a tree that seemed perfect.
Can we do this, finally?
The three of us, in this space and time of staying home, created a backyard pond! I waited over 20 years hoping for one-- and it came in the midst of a pandemic.
Something else is happening too. Something only God can do, something miraculous and transformative.
My son and I are praying together.
A stubborn, self-admitted hard-headed, angry and distanced young man, my youngest son...in the midst of his own personal soul pandemic--is finding God and searching for the man God wants him to be.
Broken hearts can stay injured and unrepairable, thrown into the wasteland of regrets and pierced by the probes of unworthiness and demon accusations or they can be remolded, restored, resucitated and repurposed. God can and will do that if we seek Him.
Though we live under the same roof, he sends me a text...
Can we pray Mom? I need to pray.
I text him one back. Of course.
He walks past his dad and I gather myself off the deep couch, apply my mosquito repellant and outside I meet him in his cigarette smoke and in his humble posture.
I take a breath of clean air and allow it to fill my lungs and then I step into his world, he leads the way, telling me he will begin.
And he does, and I know the smell of that smoke, but somehow I can't recognize it, I have to look up and see for myself that this is not a hazy dream, but I am hearing and witnessing a supernatural transformation ignited by years of prayers, prayers never snuffed out, but smoldering in God's perfect timing--
And he seeks to change, to be the man God wills for him, and he prays for those he loves and those who hurt him and for his mother. He makes peace with his past and pleads for his future, his future in 5 minutes, his future in 5 hours, his tomorrow.
He gives up the anger, again and again, knowing it could come streaming in at a flick of a switch, in a broken heartbeat. He fills the ending time in thanksgiving and resolve.
Who taught this boy...sorry, no,
Who taught this young man to pray like this?
Not me. He has avoided "church stuff" for years.
This is answered prayers. This is boulders being moved and placed in position so streams of Living Water can flow through and make a beautiful noise. This is a spot in life he's been placed in, though in heartache and self-realization, where God is building up a new beginning, a holy work.
We've now made this official. Every night before I head upstairs to bed, I will go outside and sit with him, in the memory of a recently smoked cig and the tattoed arms holding up his bent head in submission. I listen to him pray and he asks for God's guidance and strength for his healing in the most humble, straightforward conversation, as if he already asked God to meet us out here--as if he's done this many times before.
I look up from my own bent head in awe and wonder of a God who has taken His time with this one. What is being revealed through his waterfall tears and cascading prayers? -- Hope in a God of infinite possibilities when a mother continuously--exceeding and abundantly prays for her children.
Thank you God. I am overwhelmed with all you are doing right now. This is just the beginning of my son's healing journey. I pray right now for satan's demons to be banished from any attack on his spirit. He is Yours God, You have plans for his story. Thank You Lord, for redemption, the most beautiful word in the world. Your power works within us when we pray and In Jesus's Name I pray, Amen.
Every Teardrop Is a Waterfall
I shut the world outside until the lights come on
Maybe the streets alight, maybe the trees are gone
I feel my heart start beating to my favourite song
Until Monday morning feels another life
I turn the music up
I'm on a roll this time
And heaven is in sight
From underneath the rubble sing a rebel song
Don't want to see another generation drop
I'd rather be a comma than a full stop
Maybe I'm in the gap between the two trapezes
But my heart is beating and my pulses start
Cathedrals in my heart
To tell me it's alright
As we soar walls, every siren is a symphony
And every tear's a waterfall
Is a waterfall
Oh
Is a waterfall
Oh oh oh
Is a is a waterfall
Every tear
Is a waterfall
Oh oh oh
