A Small Prayer Answered … and a Story to Tell
Is it worth it?
This is a question I ask myself at least once a week when it comes to writing. As I’m trying to balance family life with my call to the keyboard, I sometimes wonder if maybe I’m just a little bit selfish. Shouldn’t I be more fulfilled with my duties of caring for my home and family?
I wonder if it’s worth the effort – the hassle of keeping up with queries, submissions, and deadlines. What if I’m not a Beth Moore or Max Lucado? Lord, does my writing really matter?
I woke up this morning full of questions, and I couldn’t wait to go sit in my favorite chair and whisper to God through my prayer journal. My daily Bible reading centered on the passage in Numbers 11, where the Israelites whined to Moses about how they were tired of eating manna all the time and longed to eat meat.
“We remember the fish we ate in
How could they have forgotten? I was mad at those Israelites! Barely a year had passed since God opened up the Red Sea for them, and they’d just finished building the magnificent Tabernacle.
But they’d forgotten so quickly. How? Then it hit me. My role as a storyteller is to help people remember. I want the readers of my stories to know one thing: God hears our voice and answers our prayers. When my faith is encouraged, no matter how small the story, it’s my job as a writer to pass my joy along through the written word.
It happened just yesterday, a small prayer answered. I’d come out of a store early in the morning. After loading up my packages, I put my sleepy one-year-old in her carseat, ready to get home out of the cold. But when I went to crank up the engine, nothing happened. My battery was dead!
Oh, Lord. Not now! My husband was at work, over an hour away. My children would need me to pick them up from school in only a few hours. Most of my local friends were at work or busy homeschooling.
Please help me, Lord. Please help me get my car cranked back up!
Within minutes, a woman pulled into the spot directly across from me. Mid-50ish, blond, driving a shiny luxury sedan. I walked over to her window where she sat, carefully removing brown leather gloves. She eyed me suspiciously, then asked, “May I help you?”
I explained that my car had a dead battery and I was hoping to find someone to jump me off. A smile broke across her face. “I can help you!” she said. “I’ve watched my husband do this before.”
She emerged from her car, perfectly coiffed in a black suit and spiked heels. I was so embarrassed. Then she held up her hand, “But wait! I see a guy! Let me run over there and see if that guy can help us.”
A few seconds later, she motioned to a man driving a van to come over and help me. Using my jumper cables, he connected our engines – and mine cranked right up.
Wow.
My prayer was answered … in only minutes. Although I’d wanted a miraculous quick-start on my own, God’s way allowed me to see His mercy through others. I saw how He used a kind woman and a helpful stranger to reach out to me. Later, when I told this story at the dinner table, my husband and kids were encouraged in hearing how God answered my prayer.
That’s my job – and yours — as writers. To keep telling stories so our family and friends will remember. “My God answers prayers,” I want them to think the next time they’re in need.
Through our stories, our written body of work, we can make a difference building the faith of the next generation. It only took the Israelites a few months to start complaining about their lack of fish and cucumbers. They’d already forgotten the majesty and power of God who had brought them out of the horrors of slavery.
But maybe things would have been different if they’d had some good books to read or magazine articles that reminded them of Truth.
Our writing may not catapult us into the spotlight, but it’s worth it — if we’re helping to point people’s hearts back to God.
