At 11:37 this morning, little Ethan Powell finished what was a very short journey here.

It was the e-mail that my dear cousin Gina sent to me well over a year ago about her friends the Powells that got me started on the desire to know more about prayer.

That the request came from Gina made me all the more prayer dyslexic. Gina, my dear cousin whom I love as a sister, Gina who buried her sweet Mariah even though I know the saints were pounding on Heaven’s gates for almost the full length of that fragile pregnancy.

We prayed. We all prayed until we wept. We believed that God could make her whole. And still we lost Mariah Grace. Were we lacking? Did we not move the arrow on the faith-o-meter enough?

Was God mad at us?

And in this condition, I began praying for Ethan Powell. This is what I prayed:

Forgive me for thinking my greatness matters in your decision to bless me and those for which I pray. It is your glory I seek, in all things. Lift me up to expose your glory in exaltation. Let me crumble to expose your glory in grace. Use me to fulfill your will and forgive me when I would rather use you to fulfill mine.

In all things, and especially Ethan right now, I pray that it can never be debated that your hand was present in battle. May no man view the scope of the war that raged, both spiritual and physical, to save this little baby and ever deny that the LORD’s eye oversaw the whole matter.

“And God will wipe away every tear from their eyes; there shall be no more death, nor sorrow, nor crying. There shall be no more pain, for the former things have passed away.”
Revelation 21:4