“Oh God, You can’t let it end like this!” I remember uttering those words in shear desperation
as a growing knot grew in my stomach. It
was supposed to a wonderful fun family event…a free outdoor concert for
Mandissa. Two years ago, I experienced
one of my lowest points as a mother. I’d
lost my two year old daughter. The sun began to fall, and the volume of the
concert rose with the opening song.
Tears streamed down my face, and fear coursed through my veins. I’d been sitting with my little infant and
friend while our older children played together. My two year old had asked to join her
sisters, and I agreed. I sat down for a
moment to adjust my shirt; and when I got back up to check on them, I couldn’t
see her. At first, I thought my view was
merely obscured by another child.
However, when the child moved, I still couldn’t see my two year old. I calmly walked over, determined not to
panic. As I got closer, I still couldn’t
see her. I asked my older two if they
knew where their sister was, but they were clueless. I sent them back to the blanket with my
friend. I thought I heard a voice crying
out “Mamma!” from the woods that lined the back of the clearing for the concert,
so I ran toward the sound I’d heard and cried out her name every few feet
wondering if she was lost in the woods.
Panic began to set in, and I had this dying realization that this event
could forever change my life. I cried
out to God as I ran trying desperately to find her. Still the fear remained that I would never see
my daughter again. I ran back to my
friend where the rest of my children sat waiting, and she told me that her
husband had recognized my two year old in the arms of a police officer when he
was helping his youngest use the bathroom.
My daughter had made it all the way to the opposite side of the
clearing. I began to sob in relief as I
took her from the officer’s arms, but she just looked at me with no emotion
oblivious to what had just happened. I
wasn’t instantly relieved because all I could think in that moment was what a
lousy, incompetent mother I was. Instead
of feeling grateful, I felt the weight of what I guessed everyone was thinking
about me: “What was she thinking bringing four children to an outdoor concert?”
After
this story, I imagine you can see I’m clearly qualified in the area of not
being a perfect mom.
This
was not my shining moment as a mom, but God saved me from disaster. It felt
like divine intervention for a police officer to find my little girl, and for
my friend’s husband (that I barely knew) to recognize her. The scariest part of my story was the fear of
not knowing how God would answer my prayer. Honestly, it still is the scariest part of
prayer for me. I have an easy time
believing that God exists, but I don’t know whether or not He will answer my
prayer the way I want it answered or not.
Watching my dad die from cancer quickly awakened me to the fact that God
doesn’t answer every prayer the way you hope.
Our church is beginning its annual corporate fast that will last for the
next three weeks. We always pick a few
requests to seek God’s answer during this time. Our pastor talked about the need for faith to
experience the breakthrough we need in our lives. He used Hebrews 11:6 which says, “And without
faith it is impossible to please God, because anyone who comes to Him must
believe that He exists and that He rewards those who earnestly seek Him.” Again, the first part of this is easy for me…but
the second half is a little intimidating.
I have several requests for God for the next few weeks; and although I’ve
seen Him work in amazing ways in the past few years, I know sometimes it can
take years to see the answer to a prayer.
This means continuing to believe and persist even if it doesn’t happen
immediately. I am choosing to believe
that He has amazing answers planned for this coming year.
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