A Child's Prayer

How old do you have to be to practice intercessory prayer? Old enough to believe that God hears and answers our prayers. Old enough to have the faith of a child. My children have interceded for me many times. This is a story of one of those occasions.

September 1982, my family and I were winding our way north over endless tracts of the Alaska Highway, where I had recently been stationed. On our second day, we encountered a harrowing situation that still causes me to shudder and to thank God for His promise to answer our prayers.

We were driving near Steamboat Mountain Summit, elevation 3,500 feet – well above the snow line – and it was snowing. At first the snow was lovely, but before long it began accumulating on the highway and quickly lost its beauty. I despise driving in snow. “If it’s snowing, I’m not going” is a motto penned for me. I began wondering whether God knew what He was doing sending me to Alaska for four years.

I feared what lay ahead of us. Did we have another 900 miles of snow to drive in? That was unthinkable. I considered pulling over but I knew that would not stop the snow. Besides, the next parking area was nearly 30 miles away. I had only one choice: keep going. So I drove up and down the grades and around curves with frightening drop-offs. Here and there the car took a nauseating skid. Frightened is not a strong enough word to describe my feelings.

The kids were six years, four years, and eleven months old. They must have sensed my concerns because they began to pray. Even the eleven month old baby’s cry sounded like a plaintive prayer. Desperate, I asked my wife to check the road atlas for a safer route, knowing none existed.

Suddenly, I saw a semi-truck ahead of us, struggling up the windy slope at about one mile an hour. I knew we could not make it to the top if we stayed behind the truck at that pace. If we weren’t going to die, I had to pass this lumbering behemoth. I gripped the wheel tighter. My knuckles turned white. I am sure my face turned green.

I thought of my family depending on me to get us out of here. My wife had always been willing to go with me anywhere the Air Force said, “Go.” Now her and my children’s lives were in my hands. But with God as my co-pilot, I pulled out to pass. The next thing I remember, we were back in our own lane. Yes, I managed to pass the truck! Jehovah Jireh had provided, with His frightened servant at the wheel.

After our arduous ascent, the slope began to take us into a lower elevation. The snow, almost in an instant, turned into rain. I was never so happy to see rain! I laughed. I cried. The entire family began to sing every praise song we knew. Even the baby seemed to be singing.

Soon after, we found an oasis in the beautiful Summit Lodge (it was beautiful to us anyway) and were able to stop for gas, restrooms and food. We prayed there would be no more snow that day; and, thank God, there wasn’t. Without God’s help, I knew we would have been at the bottom of one of those valleys.

We don’t have to be adults or long-time Christians to pray. We simply have to believe we will receive what we ask for. My children prayed sweet prayers asking for safety for the family and help to get us through the snow. God answered their prayers.

Throughout the next four days of our trip on the Alaska Highway we had other episodes of adventure and God miraculously brought us through all of them. He told us not to be anxious but by prayer let our needs be known to Him. When a situation seems too big for us, it is just right for God.