Each of my children in turn has brought someone home to meet the family. In every case, they were wonderful people. In every case it was an interesting experience; I experienced something of a time warp.
You see, I’ve been praying for my kids since I first learned that we were pregnant. Part of that – me being the responsible dad and all – included praying for their future spouses.
So when my kids brought their intended home to meet the parents, several things happened. We celebrated, of course, we blessed the relationship, we continued developing our friendship with them, all the usual.
It has been interesting, even exciting, to see how these good people are walking in the things I’ve prayed for them since before they or their spouse were even born. And of course, my prayers for them continue these days, but now I have the advantage of knowing who I’m praying for.
Since then, my kids have been having kids of their own, so now there are grand kids to include in the prayers. I love declaring destiny, generally destiny I hear Father whispering, destiny I see in the Book, or even destiny I see forming in their skills, interests, passions.
I’ve been enjoying praying for these wonderful humans who share a quarter of my DNA quite as much as I enjoy lifting up their parents who share a larger share of my DNA. (I find these to be curious thoughts.)
The other day, I was out walking with Father, praying for my heirs and descendants, when I realized that I didn’t need to know exactly whom I was praying for any more than I did when I prayed for my little toddlers’ future spouses.
So I kept going, speaking life to my great-grandchildren, and their children, my offspring whom I might never meet. Blew my mind a little bit. And then it set me into my place in history, in the grand scheme of goodness that God is in the midst of.
And yeah, it’s a little like a science fiction time warp. But it turns out that it’s real. And in reality, there’s no reason that any of my (or your) prayers should ever have an expiration date. And if my prayers never expire, then I maybe ought to target those prayers in light of things (and family) to come.
So as I prayed for every one of my grandchildren’s children, and about their children. Occasionally I would get a glimpse of an individual destiny in the uncertain fog of the future. That always gives me more focus for that (potential) individual.
(By the way, this isn’t limited to my biological progeny. There are a few individuals who have adopted themselves into a relationship with my family. They get prayed for, too!)
Things get complicated quickly. The average Christian family today has 2.7 kids, I am told. That means that in a few generations, I might be praying for dozens, maybe even hundreds of of descendants. That’s a bunch of people that I’ve never met (and might never meet), but who will eventually count me among their grandcestors. My blood (or a little of it) will flow in their veins, my DNA (or a little of it) shapes how they will be crafted, my history with God (or a little of it) cut the path that they will walk.
I confess, it’s a little bit overwhelming. (And then I consider, what must it be like for God, the Father of Life? No, that’s too much; I can’t go there right now!)
I try to approach prayer like I’m trying to approach most everything in my world: I pray for the people and destinies that I feel like Father is drawing my attention to. (My big brother said it this way: “I speak just what the Father has taught me.” I like his example.)
So I’m just writing to explore the incursion of time warps into my prayer life, to help to make sense of this path that I’ve been walking with my Father for a while now.
If this is helpful to you, feel free to step on this path with yourself, and discover what kind of time warps he has available for you and for your legacy.