I can vividly remember the scene; I’ll never forget it, it was the first time. I was at Primary school and in the library. Myself and one of my best friends had just had an argument and as young children tend to be over their temporarily broken friendships, in that moment I felt devastated.
As I walked around that small little room, just me in it, I whispered in my heart cries to God. I told Him and perhaps moaned, telling him what had just happened and pouring out my hurt and sense of just anger over this situation. He was my Father and I wanted His help. And then it came, in an instant, it was the first time I had ever really noticed it. A sudden immense peace like nothing I had ever felt. My heart was still. The hurt and anger had completely gone and there it was, a peace, a joy, a stillness. I’ll never forget that moment.
There was the first time I cried in His presence. Not tears of sadness but incredible joy. I was at a youth evening although I must have only been 9 or 10. The speaker asked anyone who wanted to know Him more to kneel. For me, a very shy young girl kneeling on the floor in front of all these young adults seemed massive at the time but I couldn’t ignore this call to respond. So I knelt. As I did I felt it, that power, that peace, that absolute joy, unlike anything I could ever describe. His presence.
Tears filled my eyes and I wept before Him. I can’t fully explain why I cried other than saying I felt Him. I saw Him. I was in awe and happier that I’d ever been before. This was the first time I experienced His presence like this and since then my life has been full of this experience time after time as I come and spend time with Him. With my Father, with my Jesus. I’ll never forget that first moment!
I could tell you so many stories like this. The time He healed my asthma, the time he healed me emotionally, the times He has spoken so very, very clearly. The times He provided when I’ve needed. Story after story throughout my whole life of His presence, His love and His power.
This story, my story, is the one I pray and long for for my children. To know Him from a young age and to fall in love with Him when they are little.
I was raised in a Christian home. That doesn’t mean I believed just because my parents made me. Far from it. It means I had the very great privilege of hearing about Jesus when I was little and what followed was a love affair that would direct the rest of my life.
This story, my story, is the one I pray and long for for my children. To know Him from a young age, to grow in relationship with Him and to fall in love with Him when they are little. A love that captivates and doesn’t let go. A love that will lead them and sustain them throughout their life. Never falling away but walking with Him since they can remember. This is my prayer for them.
Although times like this, where I’ve experienced Him and felt His incredibly powerful presence have continued throughout my whole life, there is something about those moments that happen when we’re children. They become life changing and they define our expectations for the future. I’ll never forget those moments!
Let’s pray fervently for our children. Pray fervently that they might experience Him. Not just know about Him or hear us talk about Him but actually know Him for themselves. Embark on their own adventure that is a relationship with the living God!
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