When Children are Beyond our Reach

{Someone needs this post today}

I have four children, the oldest is nine. I’m not a seasoned mother. I’m very much in the trenches, doing and messing up and learning.

Yet already I feel my oldest withdrawing, questioning, pulling back, thinking he knows everything already. At nine.

I’m concerned. I’m a mom.

The questions start: “Is this normal? What does this mean? Is it serious? What can I do?”

Then I’m in the kitchen one day cooking, listening to Luke online, chapter by chapter. Above the din of bickering children and spilled legos and general chaos, I hear this:

“Now as He approached the gate of the city, a dead man was being carried out, the only son of his mother, and she was a widow… when the Lord saw her, He felt compassion for her…“Young man, I say to you, arise!”And Jesus gave him back to his mother.” {Luke 7:12-15}

And it strikes me that ours is a God who returns children, even grown ones, to their mothers.

Again in Luke 8:49f, Jesus gives a daughter back to her parents and in Luke 9:42 it says, “But Jesus rebuked the unclean spirit, and healed the boy and gave him back to his father.

Sons and daughters, daughters and sons, dead, possessed with evil, unable to save themselves, Jesus redeems the lives of our children and “gives them back” to us again.

I am reminded of the greatest, most significant thing a parent can ever do: Get our children to Jesus.

Just like the father who searched Jesus out with a plea for his son, so we can “with prayer and thanksgiving, let your requests be made known unto God; and the peace of God will guard your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus our Lord.”

Because we serve an awesome God who demonstrated to us His willing delight in returning children to their mommas and their daddies.


Jake’s Story

On Feb. 11, 2011, my squad of Marines patrolled through the 
Sangin Valley in Helmand Province, Afghanistan. It was a very long 
grueling patrol through knee-high mud and torrential downpours 
throughout the day.

We complained, moaned, and groaned all day about 
the distance and nasty weather. I carried a machine gun with the rest 
of the machine gunners near the rear of the patrol.

Normally, other Marines looked to me as a source of positive energy even when the 
situation had turned foul, but, today, even I was having trouble 
finding anything nice to say about this day or patrol. Also, there was 
a bad feeling in the back of my mind that I had spent the last 24 
hours trying to shake to no avail. Around and Around we walked and 
that’s when it happened.

       BOOOOOOOMMM!!!!!! I stepped on pressure plate-triggered IED 
(Improvised Explosive Device). I heard the ‘BOOM!’ and when I hit the 
ground, my first thought was, “who got hit?” Then I looked at my legs 
and I realized it was me.

I screamed in terror; then I screamed again 
meaning ‘why me?’; I screamed a third time meaning ‘please God, fix 

Then I heard my mother’s words in the back of my mind (in her 
voice even) “Don’t say ‘WHY?’; say ‘what now?’.” I stopped screaming 
and did a half-second assessment: legs gone, right hand broken, lying 
in crater of IED, NEED corpsman! So, I yell for a corpsman and one 
immediately appears behind me and goes to work.

He is putting  tourniquets on whats left of my legs, but I can feel blood leaving my 
head and still functional left hand. I’m going into shock! I can’t let 
this happen; breath… breath… breath… Concentrate! Meditate! 

They’re pulling me out of the crater that had been big 
enough for my whole body to fit inside. I’m flat on my back, my team 
leader is talking to me. Breath. Concentrate. Meditate. I respond in 
my usual sarcastic manner to let him know I will be alright; I even 
insult a couple Marines around me to raise moral and hopes for my 
survival. Breath. Concentrate. Meditate.

Breathing is getting a little 
harder and blood flow to my face and good hand is diminishing. I pray 
to God that I am ready if it is His will. I feel His answer throughout 
my entire body: “NOT YET.” I open my eyes and double my efforts to 
keep blood circulating to my head and arm.

I force more adrenaline 
through my body to keep me awake and fighting against my own death. 
Finally, a helicopter lands, I’m loaded aboard. My fight is done.


“The Lord is on my side; I will not fear: what can man do unto me?”

– Psalm 118:6


       About a day later when I regained consciousness, I am 
surrounded by a team of medical personnel who fully expect to be a 
shoulder to cry on or possibly have to introduce strong, fast-acting 
sedatives, should I burst into a torrent of fear, anger, and 
depression attempting to lash out and destroy the world that took my 

Instead, all are bewildered that I immediately smile and start 
making jokes about my situation. “Don’t say ‘WHY?’; say ‘What now?’.” 
What now? Be myself, because that’s still who I am (just a little 
shorter). What now? I walk by FAITH, because that has become a deep 
part of me, it runs in my blood. What now? I get better and strive for 
the same life goals I always strove for. “God is on my side… what 
can man do unto me?”

He can beat me, shoot me, blow me to pieces, even 
kill me, but because I have committed my soul to walking by FAITH, I 
can never be defeated by the things of this world.

I can say with every bit of honesty that I was not afraid during 
my tour in Afghanistan. Anybody who has been through what I have would 
say, “anybody says he wasn’t scared is an idiot or a liar!” I am 
neither typically (nobody’s perfect). I can stand tall (manner of 
speaking) and say, “I was not afraid!” because I walk by Faith.

If my  wife is reading this, a lot of those times you get frustrated because 
I would rather ‘wing it’ or ‘play it by ear’ I’m actually walking by 
faith, and how many times do things just seem to work out somehow? 
(Just picking on you, hunny)

Every step of the way I knew God was 
there; I could feel his presence all around me. I knew in every fiber 
of my being that whatever happened was the will and plan of the 
Almighty and that He would direct me to fulfill my part of it.

“For God hath not given us the spirit of fear; but of power, and of 
love, and of a sound mind.”

– 2 Timothy 1:7

       Fear is the antithesis of Faith. If you have that little Fear 
in the back of your mind that you may not be on the right path, then 
your Fear is truth. You must shed your Fear; just let it go; let the 
burden fall off your shoulders so that you can see what Faith really 
feels like. You CANNOT see the path until you SHED the Fear of not 
seeing it. FAITH is knowing WITHOUT seeing; then, you are able to SEE 
what you KNOW.

I will heal. I will take care of and maybe grow my family. I 
will run. I will relearn how to fight. I will strive to have a career 
with Law Enforcement. I will go back to school and increase my 
standard of living.

“What now?” I will carry on…


Jake is a 22 year old father to son Liam. His wife, Michelle, is due to deliver their second son any day now. Jake lost both of his legs and will possibly lose his right hand (it is not healing properly so please pray?) He asked me to share his testimony and desires that it be shared with as many people as possible. He is still in hospital with other complications and injuries.

The Answer is Yes!

I’m clothed in drab, human skin and feel every inch of humanity as I get on my knees before Him.

“Lord. You have laid hold of me…let me now lay hold of You. Both hands, Lord, both hands.”

“Jesus, show me how to do this!”

“As the Father loved You, so You have loved me, Jesus. Help me abide in Your love.”

“Jesus, I call on You! Imperfectly and in only partial belief, but it is all I know to do. Save me from this pride and control and self reliance. I am a woman of unclean hands, lips, and heart, and I need Your fire of cleansing to purify me. Will You do this?”

“Will You let me know You? Really GET You, God? Oh, how I want to understand You, know Your ways!”

Throughout the days I keep finding my knees, keep asking, keep seeking, keep knocking. Until I realize…it is becoming a way of life for me.

Then. Today. Little one tells me her cup is out of water. “Okay, what do you do?” I prompt her.

“May I have some more water please?”

“The answer is YES!” I tell her.

We have done this particular little exercise hundreds of times, me trying to teach her to ask and she will receive… Her asking time and time again, and me saying “YES!” And I wonder, when will she really get it? When will her relationship with me reflect a deep, abiding trust? When will she KNOW that she is part of me, of us, and when will she not hesitate to put me out for her sake?

But this time the words come back at me, a response from Him spoken from my own lips: “The answer is YES!”

“All those requests you are making…all those desires for righteousness and truth and love and grace you are pouring out before Me…all those tears that have no words… the answer is YES!”

“And when will you finally get it, that you are part of Me, of US, and when will you not hesitate to put Us out on your behalf? You know you have the entire throne room of Grace at your disposal… you know I say ask and you will receive…”

Right there at the lunch table I jump up and leap for joy! “The answer is YES!” I say again and again and they laugh at their crazy momma.

And I know something new today: Some prayers are best made on bended knees. Others, on leaping legs.

“For no matter how many promises God has made, they

are YES in Christ.” II Corinthians 1:20