The Call

The call came late one night. It brought the kind of news that breaks hearts. Little one known to many would be fighting a long battle for his life. Cancer had made it's claim on his young body and immediately we begin to pray. The praying turns into scripture searching which again turns to praying and then again to the Word. An endless cycle of seeking our Healer. We take our place on the front lines. Relentless pleas burst from our being. Our own little ones struggle to understand this looming death, but accept their call to take it to the throne alongside us. 

Spirit works and moves in us - in me. Always guiding, always directing, always interceding. So why am I surprised when He chooses to divert my pleading words away from this little one to someone far sicker? This one had left her youth behind many years ago. We were born of the same blood. Carved from the same DNA. Created to share the bond of sisterhood, but separated by a divide so wide only He could build the bridge across. Only His power and her submission could soften her wandering, obstinate heart. 

Spirit confirms how good it is to pray for the little one who's physical body wastes away, but how much more necessary it is to petition for this lost sister-child. She spiritually wastes away. If little one succumbs to his dying body it will only release him into the arms of his Father. She has no such Hope. Why is it so easy to line up for the unexpected, seemingly unjust battles and so hard to stay steadfast in the lingering ones? Is spiritual sickness not vastly more devastating than any physical sickness? Why am I not relentless on her behalf, on the front lines every day, pleading for her life? Conviction weighs heavy and my heart begins to crumble under it. Tears of repentance wash over me. How do I begin? I confess I don't even know where to start. He reminds that Spirit is waiting to intercede with passion and direct alignment to Perfect Will. All moving to the same pulse with the same desires. Forgive me for failing to lay her at your feet every day. She is worth that. Blot out my pain and reshape my heart. Write her name on it with your Holy hand. Give me your passion for her, Your one lost sheep. You are out looking for her. She has strayed so far. Draw her to You. Help me have a relentless, passionate love for her.

Oh prodigal child....come home. 

We are waiting.

He is waiting.