Swaying in the Dark

I realized the other night that it’s been nearly 15 years. I remember the night like it was yesterday. The memory of it is sweet and breathtaking. I thought of it again this evening while I swayed back and forth with my baby girl in my arms. Will a day like that come upon you, dear girl? Will the earth shake and shift like it did for me?

I was twelve years old when I saw God for who He was. I struggled for years to fully understand what it meant to be a Christian, and I still struggle now, sometimes in the same ways. Sometimes in ways I wasn’t expecting.

Here’s the thing: the faithfulness of God has nothing to do with my life. It has nothing to do with my mistakes. It has nothing to do with me at all.

As I swayed back and forth in the shadows of my room, waiting for Rosie to fall into deeper sleep, I prayed for her. My arms and hands upon her, pouring out whatever faith God has built in me over this little girl’s life. It feels like a natural step when my hands are resting on my children. Whether it’s on their shoulder, scooped in my arms, riding on my back, or holding my hand, whenever my hands graze their warm souls, the prayers pour like water.

This most recent evening while I held my girl, the thought of discipleship occurred to me. I want to disciple her well. I want to teach her what I’m learning, and I want to walk with her. Even more, I realized how much I wanted her to have other women, women who know better than me, to disciple my girl. I want her soul to be wrapped in prayerful hands, as though she’s still my baby girl swaying with me in the dark, except there’s a whole village of us reaching out to push her onward.

I think this of my kids. And yet I think this of my people. My women. My husband. My family. My church. The strangers and the familiar. I’ve always wondered if maybe I am just a little quirky, but maybe it isn’t so crazy to be the one placing a hand on a shoulder, praying for more than I can do, and sending onward with love and strength.

Sometimes we forget, don’t we, the great deed we’ve been given. We give up our honorary duties as saints of a holy King because we’ve…got opinions to defend? People to correct? Work to do? Money to make? A legacy to leave?

“Go and make disciples.”

Your only legacy is His legacy. Your work is His work. Those people are His people. Your opinions are welcome, but remember to Whom you belong. Someone discipled me when I was young and changed my life forever. Don’t underestimate whoever you’re underestimating. Walk with them for a minute. Hands on shoulders, wrapping souls in prayers that push them onwards.

Published by Janelle Delagrange

Wife to a graphic designer, mom to three young boys, and writer of the soul.

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