By Heather Templeton
How God Uses Small Moments to Build Our Faith
“In the same way, the Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us through wordless groans. And he who searches our hearts knows the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for God’s people in accordance with the will of God.” – Romans 8:26-27
Conner Jack Templeton was born April 9th, 2011 at 12:09AM. He was perfect. Our beautiful baby boy. We brought him home on April 10th, simultaneously exhausted and elated at being parents for the very first time.
The next morning, we drove to our pediatrician’s office for a routine checkup. We parked the car, and opened the back door to find a purple, glassy-eyed baby slumped lifeless before us. The moments that followed were a blur. My husband tore him from his car seat and we ran into the office as fast as we could move. The staff immediately grabbed him and rushed him into the closest room, strapping an oxygen mask onto his face. An ambulance arrived minutes later, ready to transport us to the hospital across the street. I could barely see through the steady stream of tears as I climbed into the back with my tiny two-day old.
What had happened?
Would he survive?
And would there be permanent damage if he did?
So many questions swirled around inside, and the fear threatened to overtake me. We immediately reached out for prayer, and our family, friends, and church body joined together to intercede for our sweet boy.
After four days of testing, blood draws, a spinal tap, periodic fasting, and around the clock monitoring, we were given this conclusion: it had been a fluke occurrence, and there was nothing wrong with our son. All his tests had come back normal, and there were no abnormalities or damage detected. We had fervently prayed for a clean bill of health, and God had said yes. We were so thankful, and as time pressed on, it only served to confirm that there wasn’t an ounce of lingering damage to our precious boy. He is now a bright, energetic, hilarious six-year-old, and to this day, we thank the Lord often that he spared our son’s life.
As humans, we tend to be drawn to the extraordinary.
Those wide-eyed, jaw-dropping, edge-of-our-seat stories are the ones that make our hearts race and our breath catch in our throats.
David slaying the giant Goliath with only a slingshot and a smooth stone.
The parting of the Red Sea so the Israelites could elude Pharaoh’s advancing army.
Noah building an enormous ark to escape a worldwide, catastrophic flood.
Stories of big events.
And big prayers being answered.
I think sometimes we wonder why God doesn’t always move in big ways.
He certainly can.
He certainly has.
So… why doesn’t He more often?
I have a theory.
God uses every day, simple, and seemingly mundane moments to grow our faith through fellowship with Him.
Prayer is more than a wish list. More than a hopeful plea for something our heart desires.
Prayer is an intimate connection with our heavenly Father.
That big moment with Conner will be branded on my heart until the day I see Jesus face to face. There is no doubt about it. It changed me, and the gratefulness that I possess for my son being alive and well today is something I cannot adequately express in words.
But I feel that the Lord has grown my heart, my faith, and my prayer life in much greater ways by using the small moments to move me.
I see his hand gently woven in my day-to-day life.
The way he calms my heart when I’m in the middle of a challenging situation with my toddler, and I barely have enough patience left to whisper “Lord, help me. Please.”
I hear his assurance when I fall into bed at night, exhausted from working and changing diapers and cooking and doing laundry and mopping the floors and picking up Lego after Lego after Lego. He hears me weakly express my thanks and my love for this tiring but incredible life, and my soul finds rest.
I feel his presence when private tears fall, and I tell him I’m not good enough or able enough to do everything I must do. That I feel like I’m always failing at something. That He’s got to be sick of me making the same mistake over and over. I feel his love wash over me and his mercy envelope me until I have no doubt that He is there and that HE KNOWS. I dry the tears, and He gently leads me to verses of encouragement and renewal.
The big moments are grand. They show His power and might in ways that remind us of how truly awesome our God really is.
But the small moments… the baby steps… the day-by-day struggle that slowly turns to victory...
These are the moments that build our faith.
That is the power of prayer.