Finding Intercession in the Craziest Places

We were up late one night last week. And early. And most parts in between. Miss Zoe, for some inexplicable reason, was not sleeping. We tried the 'hold her while standing in the hall bathroom with the water running' trick. I also tried the 'sing to her in the kitchen' trick and the 'lay her on my stomach' trick. She was not falling for any of it.

She seemed to find the most peace with me holding her upright (and big eyed) against myself as I paced the distance from the kitchen to the hallway. We made many laps that way...Zoe squirming while I rubbed the sleep from my eyes. I remember thinking "someone left the oven on..." before realized that the 3:50 it was blinking meant AM rather than Fahrenheit.

On about the thirtieth lap, fully aware that my alarm was going to go off in an hour and I'd hardly slept a wink, I grabbed my iPod and jammed my earbuds in my ears. As I walked back and forth, Zoe heard the sounds of my shuffling feet and her brother snoring down the hall. Meanwhile, I heard The Fray pounding in my ears.

There's a song on their recent cd titled 'How to save a life'. The experts on the internet indicate that it was written in response to a mentoring situation that did not go well for a member of the band. That night, on the brink of exhaustion, while holding my dear daughter close to me, one lyric took a whole deeper meaning.

I would have stayed up with you all night
If I'd known how to save a life

I stopped dead in my tracks. That's it. That's exactly what I'm doing. I am in a perpetual state of adopting this baby girl, of making her mine, of loving her to maturity, of speaking life into her.

Raising the money for the adoption agency was an act of intercession. Scooping her up from that plexiglass bassinet in the hospital was prayer with our arms. Placing her in our home as one of our own was an extension of the kingdom of light.

Now, here I am, knocking on 4 AM, and walking the floor in prayer. No, walking the floor...as prayer. Whispering life. Walking out redemption. This is what Jesus looks like. This is what I'm showing her. This is my continual act of prayer before God on her behalf.

We make intercession for our children every day. Sometimes, it's on our knees. Other times, it's with our hands or time. All of it counts in shaping them into the children of God who will walk in His plan for their lives.

In the natural, Zoe's birth had a story written for it. Born into a nest of bad decisions and wrong ideas, her course was charted by society and by likelihood. When we connected with her, Jesus radically rewrote her destiny.

Standing there on the hardwood next to the entrance to the hallway, Zoe and I had a little prayer meeting. I thanked God for the honor of staying up all night, if it meant I could save a life.

It is no sacrifice to walk the floor in the middle of the night to changing the destiny of a generation.

As I whispered amen and wiped the tears from my eyes, I noticed she had snuggled into the crook of my elbow and closed her eyes. She was fast asleep.