Wednesday, July 17, 2013

"Ask Daniel to Pray for the Fire"

About 4-5 years ago, my son Daniel and I were planning on spending a weekend together at home . . . the girls were going out of town.  Our plans were modest; one of the most anticipated events was cooking up some hobo pies (sandwiches made in cast-iron skillets) over a backyard campfire, and watching late night movies under 'blanket tents' in the family room.  So, all week we were looking forward to hanging out, and I saw the anticipation building in his eyes as the weekend approached.  Simple plans, safe expectations, quality time.  

On Saturday night, we went back to our fire pit and starting gathering wood and kindling.  I'm a bit of a pyromaniac at heart, so with bonfire in my eyes, we crafted a beautifully ventilated tee-pee structure that would cook up those hobo pies in no time flat.  We stepped back to survey our work, and satisfied that this was the stuff of legend, I struck a match and dropped it in the center of our pile.  The first raindrop fell.  I looked up, not realizing the storm clouds that had gathered overhead.  The drizzle began before I had a chance to get the thing started.  It may sound childish, but inside me I began to feel a wild disappointment starting to swell.  After a few minutes of failed attempts, I was planning alternatives to salvage the evening and share it in a way that sounded equally exciting.  At that moment, I had the distinct impression to ask Daniel to pray for the fire.  Doctrine took over, and I dismissed it as wishful thinking . . . but the thought sharpened and poked me again instead of floating away.  Again, I resisted as the drizzle turn into a steady rain.  As I got up to leave, the words burst from my lips somehow - a request for him to pray for the fire.  He gave me a confused look, glanced up at the sky then down at the fire, and back to me.  He bowed his head and prayed a simple prayer for God to let us have a fire for our hobo pies.

My heart raced as I opened my eyes and stared at the pit.

(Read the rest at WTNESS.ORG)

mO Thomas
Ford Motor Company, Dearborn, Michigan

Editor's note:  See this other submission by Mo Thomas.
"In his first encounter with any church, Michigan teen has back and legs healed"