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Oct 26, 2024 06:00am

Ping-Pong, Pain, and Prayer

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On New Year’s Day, my youngest, Brock, decided to play with fire . . . and got burnt. Where was his mother, you might be thinking?

Well, I was a mere few feet away working on the computer. I didn’t see him tempting the candle flame with the ping pong ball . . . but I sure saw it fly through the air, landing on my tile floors (right in front of my curious dog), erupting into several larger sparks and flames.

I screamed. (Because I am good at that in emergency situations.)

People came running, but Brock beat us all, throwing water on the small fire. His eyes were as wide as saucers and full of tears. Immediately, he was saying, “I am so sorry, I am so sorry, I didn’t know . . . . .”

To be honest, my first instinct would be to immediately dole out a punishment, but his eyes told me that this fright was punishment enough. After the initial shock and the typical “You should have known betters..”, we realized Brock had gotten burnt on one side of his hand. (He didn’t tell us . . . we picked up on it after he kept running to the sink to wet his scorched skin). For the next two hours, we tried to apply all sorts of home remedies (none of which worked because he immediately put his hand back under the water).

During this time, I prayed, “Jesus, heal it!.”

He prayed.

We prayed.

But for the next two hours, there was nothing but lots of pain and tears.

I even caught myself thinking, “Jesus, you can heal this . . . why aren’t you?” And almost immediately, I knew: Brock needed to feel this pain. He needed this reminder to last him a long time. He needed to learn this the hard way. The painful way. He needed this reminder so that he would never be in this situation again.

And you know what? I get it so much. God has let me face some pretty painful things in life, so that I too would learn the lesson He was teaching me.

Like that one time I was bound and determined to take a glass peanut butter jar outside with me so I could play and munch at the same time. My mama told me not to (red flag), but I didn’t listen. In an attempt to open the door with my jar and my bag of celery, I dropped the jar, causing it to fall partially on my left foot and shatter. That left me with seven stitches on one of my toes. (And some very scarring and painful memories of the doctor stitching my toe.)

I got a scar to remind me that a) mama is usually right and b) disobedience comes with consequences. You know what? As painful of an experience this was for me, I bet it was just as painful for my mom to see. Because as parents, we want to fix the situation for our kids . . . and when we can’t, it’s just plain hard.

It’s hard to see our kids in pain, especially when we can’t do anything about it. It’s hard to see our kids make bad decisions and suffer the consequences. And it’s hard to not say loudly (or shout) “I TOLD YOU SO!”.

Sometimes, the best thing we can do for our kiddos is this: pray, pray, and pray some more.

Pray that they learn that lesson.

Pray they don’t make the same mistake again.

Pray that Jesus gives much grace and mercy to them.

But most of all, pray that our kids realize they need Jesus. Not because Mom told them so but because they need help in life and even superhero Mom can’t bandage all their wounds.

If you have a wayward child, pray.

If you have a lost child, pray.

If you have a defiant child, pray.

If you have a Dr. James Dobson’s strong-willed child, pray harder, Mama.

Because if I know one thing, it’s this: we can out-pray them. And God is so good to leave the 99 and go after the one that wandered off.

After we made a visit to the Urgent Care, the doctor told Brock he was very lucky his eyebrows and hair didn’t get burned in the process. He shared that ping pong balls are made of chemicals that can cause the flame to be even bigger than the one we had seen.

Soon Brock’s hand was doctored and given some amazing salve, and it was better by the time we got home. A few days later, he had zero pain but a few blisters, and a hard lesson seared into his memory forever. He told me, “I am never playing with fire again.”

Thank you, Lord. That was the point. Lesson learned.