where waves grow sweet

Audio version:

If you have ever met my 7 year old, Chase, you most certainly know that he is a Lego fiend. Not only does he request Legos for every birthday and Christmas, but he was handed down thousands of the tiny little plastic pieces from my younger brother, older son and nephew… so very many of which are used every day in his creative expressions. Each weekend, he is tasked with a “super duper room clean,” when all the creations and the seeming millions of scattered pieces need to find a home.

A couple weeks ago, during one such cleanup, he was tired and overwhelmed. Frustrated tears were starting to flow. He had already been working on it for a couple hours and was nowhere near done. But he had left it until Sunday, so it had to be done. Honestly, I couldn’t see how. I discreetly asked John what I should do. Jump in and help? Let him off the hook but give him a consequence? Give an unwelcome motivational speech? I’ve chosen all of these many times over, but none felt quite right in that moment. So I sat in the living room and quietly prayed for grace to infuse that weary boy; that he wouldn’t have to forego the emotional and financial benefits of a job well done.

It must have been about 20 minutes later that he turned the most surprising corner, for which I could find no other answer than the last-ditch-effort of prayer. His discouragement and defeat had been replaced by a hopeful optimism that he could get it done. His efforts became more productive and though it took a long while yet, he persisted. By that point, I felt very comfortable jumping in to help him cross the finish line. In the end, his room looked pristine, his face was beaming and I have to believe that some little nugget of inspired confidence was instilled in the process.

Yesterday, I was the one who felt tired and defeated. All I wanted to do was crawl into bed, read a book and take a nap. If I’d thought it would truly refresh me and wasn’t just a case of escapism, I would have gone for it. But I had a feeling that I needed grace more than sleep. As I looked around at all the tasks needing attention and hoped I wouldn’t have to just grind it out until bedtime, I prayed quietly in the spirit. It probably wouldn’t kill me to fold the laundry on the bed while I prayed, I thought. So I did. And then the ones in the baskets didn’t seem like such a big deal. Nor did bathing the dog and chatting it up with Chase while I tackled several other things. Somehow in the process, my whole demeanor changed to one of hopeful optimism and my energy level followed. How could I have even thought I needed more caffeine or a nap??

John took me up on a suggestion to walk Sunny around Balboa Island, so we picked up ahi poke to eat by the bay and had the most magical evening as a family. Chase spent the best time yet that he’s had with Sunny and although he is not a fan of walks, said he loved every single minute of it and wasn’t even tired. And do you know what? Neither was I. So much for grinding it out.

I know these don’t qualify as miracles, but they sure did feel like it. And it’s made me think that if God cares enough to tend so compassionately to these small matters we bring to Him, how willing must He be to reach into the utter darkness of all who struggle? You’d better believe I’ve had renewed hope in the power of prayer and have been bringing before the throne those around me who need this compassion. If you are one of these, please let me know and I’ll pray for you too. And I can’t help but encourage you to bring all your needs – no matter how small, no matter how impossible – to the One who cares with everything in Him, who has the power to flip your defeat on its head and delights in instilling the most beautiful nuggets of hope in your heart.