In the elementary years, my daughter and I had an evening ritual. After her little brother went to bed, we’d snuggle together under warm blankets and I’d read aloud to her.  Most of the books we read together were great, but there was one particular standout that neither of us liked.  It was called,

From the time they were very small, we taught our children to pray. 

We prayed at meals, at bedtime, and when a fire truck or an ambulance would go by.  

As far as our kids were concerned, prayer was as normal as eating, sleeping, and taking a bath. It was part of our lives – an essential activity in our daily routines. 

So, it shouldn’t surprise me that our children took prayer seriously. 

According to 2010 report from Pew Research Center, nearly 80% of Americans believe in miracles.  I believe this is because it’s what they’ve observed- either directly or because they’ve heard about miracles from people they trust.  I know this is true for me.  I can’t deny what I’ve seen and experienced.

It happened on a regular basis at our house. 

In fact, it was the norm to hear this comment almost daily as we were growing up. 

Long before the days of cell phones, video games, 500 TV channels, and X-Box; our parents sent us to the ultimate destination to play. 

It was called, “OUTSIDE.” 

She wasn’t going to yield.  That much was abundantly clear.  Her fists were clenched tightly as she loudly objected, straining to free herself from the dentist’s chair.

“Though she be but little, she is fierce!”

It was such a memorable moment. 

 A group of 12 of us were seated around a large table in a conference room where we were spending the week in an intensive class on “Systematic Theology.” 

 I was the only woman in our little group. And, the topic this particular morning was, “The Trinity.”