Redeeming a Moment in Time

I was in sixth grade. We heard the weather forecast, calling for snow. Oh, how I prayed for a snow day! I lay in my bed, begging God to give us a break...right up until the moment I dropped off for the night.

The next morning, my prayer was answered! We got our snow day, and it was glorious. As we sat down for breakfast, I told my dad that I had prayed and that God heard me.

I'll never forget what happened next.

My dad looked me in the eye and said, "You're not important enough for God to answer a prayer like that."

Now, my dad wasn't a mean guy. He just didn't know where he stood with God and probably was afraid to ask. But those words have stuck with me all my life. Whenever I utter any kind of prayer, I hear them. I feel them. They are hard to shake. Even though I know God's love is unshakable. The detrimental words of an earthly father can sometimes overpower the loving words of our Heavenly Father.

This past Friday, my son heard the weather forecast for the beginning of this week and fully believed we'd have a snow day following the Martin Luther King, Jr. holiday. Despite the many naysayers (myself included), he held firm to this belief. I don't know if it ever reached the prayer level, except last night when I meekly asked for him to be right.

Lo and behold, we woke up to a delayed start, which turned into a full closure!

When he awoke, I told him that God had heard him. That he had believed so strongly, God rewarded his faithfulness.

It doesn't erase that moment in time I experienced *cough* thirty-some *cough* years ago, but I feel like that moment has been redeemed. The heartbreak I felt wasn't passed on, but instead overturned for something better. Something stronger. If I can fan the flame of my children's faith, perhaps it will turn into a roaring, burning fire. I know they will suffer doubt, but I pray it will never pull them down, as it did me. I know they will suffer trials, but I pray they will turn to God instead of turn away.

These little moments make all the difference in parenting. And as hard as it was (and has been) to endure believing that I was never important enough, I'm thankful for that moment because it made me sensitive to the one I faced today. I'm important enough to influence my child.

​And that's what counts.

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