I can do BIG things!

I ever-so-slowly tore the square of yellow paper from the pad.  I pressed the sticky strip against the wall, creating a hard surface, and began writing my prayer in the space provided.  I pressed firmly with the pencil while my hand, on autopilot, wrote the request.

“Please pray for the continued health and happiness of my son.”

Week after week, month after month, year after year those words haven’t changed.

But I have.

I let the songs of worship engulf my senses a few minutes longer.  As I walked down the busy hallway to pick up Aiden from Children’s Ministry, I reflected on the day’s service.  The Book of Nehemiah speaks of passion, surrendering to what God wants you to do, and focusing on what really matters.  The words my pastor spoke were echoing in my head, “…there are broken walls all around us; what is the broken wall God is calling you to?  You need to name this wall.”

“Mommmmmmy!”

I blinked.  I was at the 4 year old room and my very own four-year old was beaming.  His pearly whites highlighting the sweet dimples on his chubby cheeks.

“Aiden, don’t forget to give your mommy your picture.” Glancing back at me, his ministry leader continued, “today we asked the children to draw a picture about something BIG God has done in their lives.”

Aiden handed me his masterpiece entitled, “I can do BIG things!”

“Mommy, God made me better when I was sick and that was the BIG thing he did for me.”

*  *  *

Three years ago we were in the throes of treatment.  A baby, let alone a baby with cancer, was completely new to me.  I remember driving home from one of Aiden’s chemo treatments – it was a familiar route in those days – but, on this particular Tuesday in May 2011, I decided to go off course.

Straying from my route was the best decision of my life.

As I walked through the doors of Fairfax Community Church with a baby on my hip, I didn’t know what to expect.  I remember to thinking to myself, “you don’t go to church.  What the heck are you doing?”

In front of me stood a group of people.  A man turned my way, looked at me through his black-rimmed glasses, and asked, “can we help you.”

I hugged Aiden a bit tighter, took a deep breath and replied, “I hope so.”

A small group of us walked down a hallway to a room with a couch and two chairs.  I held Aiden in my lap as I shared our story.  A story of birth, cancer and fear.

At least that is how my story started.

“I am not sure why I am here.”  I looked down at my hands.  Aiden bouncing and cooing on my lap.

“God brought you here.”

I could feel my heart beating in my chest; tears welling in my eyes.

“Can we pray with you?”

I nodded.  The wetness of my tears was warm atop Aiden’s sweet, bald head.  I was where I was meant to be; I felt safe and loved.  We all joined hands and prayed.

This was the beginning of my relationship with God.  It was also the moment that my story forever changed.

*  *  *

I held Aiden’s picture close to my heart as we walked towards our car.

We have been through so much.  Seeing Aiden’s honest depiction of God’s work brought me back to where we started.  To say I was overwhelmed doesn’t even come close to the emotion I was feeling.  Aiden, too, has a relationship with God.  He, in his youthfulness, can understand the simplicity and joy in God’s love and simply love Him in return.  That’s when it all made sense to me.  My broken wall has been there since Aiden’s diagnosis and has followed me through his treatment and now into his remission.  It is time to rebuild.

My life is about hope.

My broken wall is fearing the unknown.

My God-given passion is to share my stories of restoration, my stories of hope.

Luke 12:34  “Where your treasure is, there will your heart be also.”