I called my nine-year old son back to me as I often do with the reminder, “You didn’t give me my hug!” Feigning reluctance but hiding a grin, he shuffled back to the couch and reached out his long arms. As he we held each other he hesitantly asked, “Mom, can you pray with me?” Of course!
He folded his lanky frame into my lap as I asked, “What do you want me to pray for?” To which he replied, “No, I am going to pray! But I want you to pray with me.”
It was the end of a sensitive evening. He and I with his two older sisters had watched a movie depicting the tragedy and triumph of a group of Sudanese “Lost Boys.” Afterwards we discussed the reality of those experiences and reflected once again on the mystery of God’s allowing our son, born to a Sudanese refugee in the United States, to be adopted into our family.
On the 10th birthday of each of our children, I have sought to fill in additional blanks of their adoption stories as best as I can. The time seemed right to share some of what I have learned with him. He listened carefully and asked questions seriously, with occasional nervous giggles. Eventually we finished and he headed to bed. As he started up the steps, I called him back to me.
Snuggling his face close to mine, he prayed. He thanked God for a good day at church today, and for his sister’s upcoming birthday on Saturday. Then he made a sincere plea. “Please help my birth brothers and sisters know Jesus.”
Precious heart! What a moment to treasure with my cherished child. I trust we will one day see the answer to his tender prayer.