Growing up in a small town, I took community church services for granted. All of the various churches in town would get together for Christmas and Easter services. I can't remember if we had Thanksgiving services. Terrible I know. We always had a Good Friday service at noon, so workers could come on their lunch break if they chose.
"My boy" and I didn't have school today, so at noon, I talked to him about Jesus and what he came to do. I read to him from the Gospel of Mark about Jesus' arrest, crucifixion, and resurrection. I also played Sandi Patty singing, "Was It A Morning Like This?" My boy listened intently while I read, and he really seemed to like the song. We had our own private Good Friday service.
My boy always seems to like and appreciate it when I pray with and for him. It is like he knows exactly what is going on. Our normal place of prayer is kind of weird. When we go out of the utility room into the garage and down the ramp to get on the school bus, we stop before exiting the garage door. It is there at the foot of the ramp where I put my hand on his head and pray for him. He always has the biggest grin on his face, as if we are literally approaching God's throne in Heaven, and asking in Jesus' name. I feel like he is more spiritual and closer to God than I ever will be. I love this kid!
Thank you, Jesus, for Hope, and for my boy!
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