It was more of a command than a request.
Now, nine years later, I've been to Japan and the United Kingdom and the Amazon and . . .
For this year it is over but some are just beginning.
The prayers should never stop. Everyday, somewhere, some child is hearing the name Jesus.
So many years of prayers. A thousand children. Many now grown and gone and I wonder where and question.
This year I watched them as I always do from the back. They raised their arms and stomped their feet and rounded up questions and drove home answers. So much laughter. They're all just babies.
Where will they all go? What will they do? Who will they become?
Will they say yes now or later or never?
I look at the back of their heads and know all will one day die, some with their future being seperation and fire. They sing and dance and laugh and I begin to beg again, as every year.
I walk outside and the tears fall and I wonder which ones? The ground is different and these doors behind me are different but my pleads are the same, year after year.
I go back in and all is quiet. I sit on the back pew and beg and someone comes in and sees the ocean on my face and walks out. But don't go, stay with me and cry with me and petition with me. Not for one but for all.
I do not believe in statistics, I believe in my God, your God, the one and only God. Soften their hearts and prepare them and let them hear and see and know and say yes.
Everyday, somewhere, some child is hearing the name Jesus.
