It’s midnight and here I sit on the soft new carpet in my son’s bedroom watching him sleep. Watching him breath in and out so peacefully and silently. It’s hard to believe that this bundle of energy and joy and spit and fire can look so peaceful, so silent, so angelic when he sleeps. The silence is almost deafening here in this room that held so much “Loud” today.
I was ushered here tonight, summoned you might say. Maybe because of the events of the day, maybe because of the state of my heart, maybe because the Holy One called me but here I sit, with tears streaming down my face stretching out my son before the only one who could possibly love him more than I do. I fear things for him. I never thought that at the grand age of 4 that I would be consulting a play therapist for ideas and ways to help my 4 year old process grief and loss. I fear for the long term repercussions for my third culture kids- all three of them. My heart breaks for them and for the life of transition stress that they live, but today, or tonight I should say, my 4 year old son is heavy on my heart and it is because of this that I feel summoned to sit here, to pray prayers of blessing and prayers of protection, prayers of covering and prayer for wisdom for him. This is not the first time the Lord has summoned me to stretch out this little body before Him and bathe him in prayer, and it probably won’t be the last, but it is what He has asked of me tonight. So it is here I sit. . . and I stretch!
