Being a mother of three, I've always had a longing in my heart to see my children truly know God and have a personal relationship with Him. My heart's cry and my daily prayer was to see them passionately serving God; being completely on fire for Him. I so desired for God to plant a seed in them that would grow and multiply for generations to come.
Because of this, I made sure that serving the Lord came first. I unashamedly worshipped on the floor of our living room, with tears flowing down my face, as my toddlers played around me. This was normal daily life. I wasn't going to let my responsibility of watching over my children get in the way of coming before God's throne. My children were never sheltered from authentic heartfelt worship and they were surrounded by prayer from before they were born. I danced before the Lord with my children, I cried before the Lord in front of my children, I prayed every chance I got with them, for them, and for others. When someone was hurt and in pain, they knew what to do, and who to turn to.
When my daughter was around 2 years old, I had hurt my knee pretty bad. She came up to me because she saw me limping and said, "Mommy, hurt?" I said, "Yes honey, mommy hurt her knee and I'm in a lot of pain." Without another word, she put her hands on my knee, closed her eyes, and began praying in her broken words (her vocabulary range was limited at the time) "Jesus, ???? heal ???? knee ????? pain ????? gone?????" Those are the only words I understood between everything else she said. I knew she was either speaking in tongues or baby language, either way it didn't matter because God knew her heart. I thanked her, and was about to go back to washing dishes when all of a sudden my daughter says, "All better mommy?" I couldn't lie. And so, I answered truthfully---"It feels a little better, but it still really hurts." I was about to hug her, because I didn't want her to feel bad that God didn't heal me this time.
What happened next amazed me. My 2 year old puts her hands on my knee, closes her eyes and begins praying again with even more assurance in her voice. She had seen her dad and I do this so many times for others, yet here she was believing for more than I was. When she had finished praying, she looked up at me and said, "All Better!" She turned around and went back to playing.
I went back to washing dishes. I was still in pain, but the pain had diminished slightly--it was definitly more bearable. I got done with the dishes and cooking (about 45 minutes later), and I begin to walk into the next room. Amazingly the pain was completely gone! Just so we understand how much pain I was in, I could barely walk. It had been increasingly getting worse over a period of five days, and I had already told myself I would have to see the doctor in the morning. Well, I never had to see the doctor. All because my daughter had faith that God would heal it and she acted on that faith. Praise God!
My son had a love for God's word from a very young age. I was always taken back by the questions he would ask me as I tucked him in at night. Sometimes I would forget that I was having a conversation with a four year old. By the time he was around 7 or 8 years old, he had read through the Action Bible twice and he would recite the stories and explain how they all fit together. I would think to myself-- the Spirit of God is teaching him, because there is no way I'm that good at teaching. My son was always very prophetic. From the age of three or four, the Lord began speaking to him in dreams. He would tell us the dreams and we would interpret them. He always talked aobut how he loved the Lord, and loved God's word. When he was in 7th grade, he and one of his friends started a bible study with the boys at their middle school. It started with three, than five, by the end of the year there were 11 boys attending. This was exciting for him and the boys were gaining so much from it.
One day my son came home from a youth group summer camp. He was so excited, and you could tell God did something in him while he was away. Over the next few weeks we talked about it. I wasn't expecting to here what he shared. He said for the first time in his life he saw people really worshipping with all their heart, serving with purpose, hearts on fire, and he was excited to be a part of a group that did that. It was real and meaningful for him. But those words hurt momma.
"First time? Real worship? serving with purpose? hearts on fire? What about your entire childhood?," I thought. "What about your family and friends and church who did all of those things? What about the thousands of bedtime talks about God's word that you intiated? What about the encounters with God you had?" I wrestled with all these questions in my head. Don't get me wrong, I was really excited to see him excited to serve God. My heart was glad that God was moving in his life. This is what I have prayed for. I also realized that he hadn't really been around a large number of youth that were on fire for God like that. So, I could see why that would spark something in him like never before. It was something new! I was rejoicing with him in all that God was doing.
But then he went on; he said he grew up in the church but it wasn't like his faith was his own.
Wait, stop right there-----we never forced you to read your bible when you were young, and yet you read it every night. You studied it, you taught it to your friends because it excited you. How can you say your faith wasn't your own? You were receiving prophetic dreams--real encounters with the Lord---Was that not real to you? You were praying for the sick---was it because you had no faith? I didn't understand what I was hearing. Was I doing something wrong? I had to know, because I had two younger kids. I couldn't wait and hope for a God encounter at a summer camp to awaken my other children. I had to get this right.
I went to God and He reminded me of the seed. Remember the seed of the love of God's word that you and your husband planted in him? Remember the seed of the intercessors heart that you and your husband planted in him? Remember the seed of faith for healing and deliverance that you and your husband planted in him? Remember the seed of the joy of the Lord that you and your husband planted in him? Remember the seed of generosity? Remember the seed of being a witness to others? Remember the seed of worshipping with all your heart ? Remember the seed of hearing my voice and prophesying? What you are seeing in him, is the seed growing bigger, taller, and stronger. The roots growing deeper and wider. He is being stretched so there is more room for growth.
Whew, I didn't totally mess up the process! That's a relief. He saw all those things. He experienced all those things. All those things nurtured the seed and kept it warm and watered so the seed could grow. This was just another experience that helped the seed grow a little bigger, wider, taller, stronger, and deeper. It's a new revelation that hit his heart, that made all the other things receive new life, new growth, and reignited passion! God gave him new spiritual eyes, to see what he wasn't able to recognize before. Thank You, Lord.
In that moment I had the peace of God. I knew that he was working all things out for good. I'll keep planting, God will keep shining His light, and together we'll water the seed! We're partners in this crazy thing called child-rearing, and I like it! The pressure is off, because what I lack, God makes up for. Remember, the gardener often sees the fruit growing before the tree realizes it has fruit to give. As parents, many times we can see the fruit growing in our children before they are ever aware they were made to bear fruit. But when it finally dawns on them----I have fruit to give to others---- new life fills their veins and the fruit multiplies. That's what happened to my son.
Parenting is hard. You pour so much into your children. We pray good fruit will come from it. It can be discouraging at times, and many times it's a thankless job. But, God encourages us to remember the seed that was planted and to believe for it to bear good fruit through all of its seasons of growth. So, when my children are trying to walk out their own journey of faith or when they wonder where their branches and leaves came from, I will remember the seed and water it with prayer.
I have prayed for revival to come to this generation for so many years that I've lost count, and yet, I haven't lost my passion in the midst of the waiting, for I know the God I serve! I plant the seed, He will grow it, and it will multiply. That's how His kingdom works.