I remember it like yesterday, I had just gotten off work, and pulled the truck around to the front of the store to load some grocery's I was bringing home. As I slid through the door with things spilling from my arms, I noticed three sets of eyes across the parking lot watching me. You know those baggy black jeans, chains, backwards hats, banging rock music, the kind of kids I've always ignored. But something in me hit me as I watched them hanging around their car, these were souls for whom Jesus died. I was in a hurry, and honestly, mostly scared. I didn't want to speak to them, but as I pulled out of the parking lot, I whispered a prayer "God, somehow bring those boys to yourself. Show them your salvation"

A minute later Ezra came running across the street, he saw the same three boys. The same three souls. Something inside him pressed him to go talk to them. As he spoke to them they told him all about the Satanism that they were getting into. About the spirits that haunt them in their dreams, about the music that speaks to them, about the desperation they feel inside. Of course we prayed for them, but for a good while it didn't seem that we were getting anywhere. From time to time Ezra would see them, especially the one boy but it was always the same answer "I'm not quite ready". A couple weeks ago Ezra spoke with him again and he said "I'm a believer now". Within the last few weeks Ezra has gotten together with him a few times and he says "I wouldn't give this up for anything. I'm NEVER going back to my old life" The Angels in heaven rejoice for one more soul come into the kingdom of God, and one little thing rings in my heart...Would this have happened had it not been for that prayer? What things do we miss in life because we forget to pray? How much more could be done for God if we would pray?

More of my thoughts on prayer...coming later...