This post came to mind as I was thinking of this month’s blog theme, “Small is the new big.” Really, this is nothing new, for in God’s economy, it’s always been the small He’s chosen to do the big. From shepherd boys felling giants to a tiny band of soldiers armed with trumpets and jars, that’s just how He works. Thus, I shouldn’t have been surprised that a little boy’s prayer could be accomplish the big.

It was an odd sort of place to intercede. I wasn’t looking for it to happen there. Actually, I hadn’t really expected it from him at all. But there he was, Little (a.k.a. Mr. 4T), praying for his cousin as he balanced on the edge of the seat.

It was two weeks ago today that word came via Grandma Schrock that a brother-in-law and sister-in-law were on their way to a far-off hospital with their own boy, small, who’d begun his day with seizures. From out of the blue, they’d struck, scaring them dumb. Snatching him up from the floor where he lay, his big, strong daddy had rushed him to the local physician who then sent them on to the nearest hospital where a specialist was waiting.

Our own little boy had heard me tell it that day, and to my glad surprise, he’d sunk to his knees on the kitchen floor and prayed aloud, head resting on folded hands: “Dear Jesus, please heal Daunte…”

After several days, a couple of tests, and much conversation with the specialist, they’d returned home. To more seizures, more questions, and more medication. Unsettled and fearful, they’d called the doctor who asked that they return with him this week.

I don’t recall mentioning it to him. Perhaps he heard me telling his father that Grandma had called again and that all was not well. But there he was when I went into the bathroom to help him finish up. He was perched on the edge with his head bowed. What are you thinking, little boy?

Curious, I asked him the question: “What are you thinking about?” And this was his reply, “I’m praying for Daunte right now.”

“What are you praying about?” I pressed.

He mumbled then, and I caught “healing” and “tickle” and “arm.” Ah, yes. Daunte’s seizures begin with a tingling in his arm. Knowing this, he was praying for Jesus to heal the “tickle” in his cousin’s arm.

“Oh, Gabriel,” I said, happiness in my voice. “I’m so glad you know how to pray. He needs your prayers right now ’cause he’s still sick!”

“He needs my prayers, doesn’t he?” he said, looking at me with those piercing blue eyes.

“He sure does, Gabe,” I said. “He sure does.”

With a grateful heart, this mother gives thanks that the Spirit of the Living Christ works in the hearts of the smallest and the least who, at the tender age of four, can intercede for those they love.

Update: Cousin Daunte has, indeed, gotten better. With the help of skilled physicians, the right medication, and the power of prayer, he’s doing well.


Rhonda Schrock lives in Northern Indiana with her husband and 4 sons, ages 22, 18, 13, and 5. By day, she is a telecommuting medical transcriptionist. In the early morning hours, she flees to a local coffee shop where she pens “Grounds for Insanity,” a weekly column that appears in The Goshen News. She is an occasional guest columnist in The Hutch News. She’s also blogged professionally for her son’s school of choice, Bethel College, in addition to humor and parenting blogs, and maintains her personal blog, “The Natives are Getting Restless.” She is a writer and editor for the magazine, “Cooking & Such: Adventures in Plain Living.” She survives and thrives on prayer, mochas, and books.


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