He is mine

I have been thinking a lot lately about the story of Moses when his counselors help him by holding up his arms so Israel can win the battle. I think about the faith those counselors must have had, to know that something as simple as holding up his arms was actually what was allowing them to win the war. It makes me ponder on the many times I have been asked to "hold up an arm" and I wonder if I fulfill the task with the same amount of faith. Do I have the conviction that what I am doing is helping to win the good fight?


I thought of this as I was in the backyard with David and all he wanted me to do was throw a ball straight up in the air over and over again (like for 20 minutes). The task was simple, a bit monotonous and certainly not very difficult. Yet each time I tossed this ball in the air, I saw a look of pure joy and adoration in my little boy's eyes. For that moment, I was the coolest thing in his world.


And in performing this simple task, I was winning the war. I was building a foundation of love and a relationship of joy with my son. A bond that will grow stronger with time so that when Satan tries to claim him someday (and he will try) I will be able to say with confidence, he is mine!


It has changed my outlook on motherhood to have pondered this. With each act of service and love I perform for my children (be it changing a diaper or dancing a jig) I am literally helping to win the war for God. No act is too small and no performance can be counted as little. Indeed by small and simple things, great things are brought to pass.