The cardiologist said his aorta had narrowed again.  They needed to perform an angiogram and most likely balloon his aorta. We always knew this was a possibility, but it still came as a shock. He was only seven years old. I did what any mom would do. I started praying. Yes, they perform this procedure all the time on adults, but this was my son. I kept praying. We had a couple of weeks before the procedure.

I started to sense this nudge. “Teach him how to pray.”  What do you teach a seven-year old about prayer? He had learned the “now I lay me down to sleep” prayer. What else can a child understand about prayer? I kept praying and God kept nudging, “Teach him how to pray.” I had no idea what to do about this, but I knew I needed to do something.

I went down into his room and started asking him some questions.

“Are you afraid?”

“No”

“What do you do when you are afraid?”

“I go to you and Dad.”

“What if Mom and Dad aren’t there?”

“Why wouldn’t you be there?”

At this point the mamma heart is breaking. I began to explain to him that Mom and Dad would be there up to a point, but then we would have to leave him in the care of the doctors and nurses. His eyes sank. Then it hit me. I knew what I was supposed to teach him. We talked about how Jesus never leaves us. I told him that when he is scared he can pray and ask Jesus for comfort.

The day came. He was on a gurney followed by his parents and entourage of grandparents, aunties, and friends. We all walked down the hall with him until we hit the procedure room. His dad and I were able to go into the room with him, but only for a minute. It was time to let go of his hand and leave when he gave me those eyes-scared eyes that broke my heart. I asked him if he was afraid and he nodded. I said, “What do we do?” He said, “Pray.”

As soon as I began to walk away, I began a rant at God. “God don’t let him be scared. Let him know you are there in a big way. Don’t let me down…” I went on. Once the procedure was over, I asked him how hit went. He said it was a piece of cake and he could do it again no problem. I asked him if he was afraid. He said, “No, Jesus was with me the whole time.”

I still thank God for that. This Easter season I am reminded of gift and promise of Jesus. He promises to never leave us. My favorite Psalm says he goes to the depths and the heights with us. Easter reminds us not only of the gift of salvation but the gift of Jesus with us in all situations. Do you know this gift? Do you trust this gift? I was clearly the one who didn’t trust in this story. My children continue to teach me about the pureness of faith. How about you? What’s your story? Share it here.