Armed

How precious it was to me yesterday to witness the depths of my daughter's heart. I got some terrible news that my brother-in-law, her uncle, got a call to go to Iraq. This was unexpected as my sister and her family had not anticipated over seas duty for another six months and this duty was not suppose to take him to the dangerous parts of Iraq. So, I shared this with my daughter as we sat together at Panera Bread. By the way, I love to spend one on one time with both of my kids. If you don't do this...do. My daughter, without skipping a beat said, "Let's pray." She folded her hands, bowed her head and began a prayer, "Lord Jesus, please protect my Uncle from injury. Please do not let him die. I pray that he would put on the helmet of salvation, the breastplate of righteousness, the belt of truth, the gospel shoes of peace, that he would take up the sword of the spirit and the shield of faith. In Jesus name, amen." She looked up at me with her beautiful brown eyes and smiled at me and said, "That's the armor of God, isn't it??" She asked as though she had prayed the wrong prayer. Tears streamed down my cheek as I said, "Your prayer was perfect, honey." And really, it was. It doesn't matter how my brother-in-law arms himself for the physical battle, his commander in chief doesn't live in a home made with human hands. His Champion arms him with all the weapons he needs to make it in this life. Glory hallelujah.