Diving Boards for the Heart

Over the past week or so, for one reason or another, I've often found myself hanging out with Sam in his room. Sometimes I just talk to him. Sometimes he talks (cries) to me. Sometimes I just look at him. Sometimes he just looks at me. Sometimes I just hold him. I think he enjoys wrapping his hand around my pinkie finger. We recently started reading through the Chronicles of Narnia together as a family in his room. Lucy just met Tumnus. I immediately wondered what image Sam would create in his mind for a fawn.

Anyways, recently while snuggling together early one morning, I found myself glancing around the room and thinking. I've always enjoyed the room's happy, complementary colors, its structured set-up (I'm detail-oriented), and the Clemson basketball hoop atop the door. But I decided one of the most strategic things about Sam's room is the way it stirs my heart to pray for him.

There are certain objects (more than others) that seem to be "spring-loaded" to launch my heart towards God on Sam's behalf -- kind of like getting near the end of a diving board. Get too close and you just can't help yourself from diving in (or up)!

Here's a few examples:

Father, would you give Sam a new heart that loves you with all -- all of his heart, all of his soul, all of his might? (Deuteronomy 6:5)

Father, would you give Sam the gospel courage and boldness of a lion? (Acts 23:11; Ephesians 6:19-20)
Would you make him strong in your strength and in the strength of your infinite might? (Ephesians 6:10ff)
Would you incline his heart to take refuge in the conquering Lion of Judah? (Revelation 5:5)

Father, would you make known the path of life to Sam? Would you satisfy him all his days with Jesus?
Would you show him the full and forever pleasures that exist at your right hand? (Psalm 16:11)