The car pulled to a stop in front of the hospital entrance. A panicked young woman got out and unbuckled her three-year old son from his car seat. Although I couldn’t see inside, I pictured her fingers fumbling, shaking, as she tried to free him from the straps. It seemed like an eternity before she was able to gather the boy in her arms.

The boy’s body dangled limply. Lifelessly. Clutching her precious bundle, the woman sprinted towards the emergency room.

Her husband peeled away from the curb and drove into the parking lot. He too looked panicked, like he could not make his feet move fast enough as he got out of his car and ran towards the hospital.

I watched this scene unfold as I was picking up my husband from work. My own children were in the back of my car, safely ensconced in their car seats. One was peacefully sleeping while the other was happily chattering about anything and everything.

It was Easter Sunday. Most children were dressed in special outfits. Most children had gone to church and then eaten a big meal with family. Most children were too full to eat their supper. They had chocolate smeared all over their hands and faces. They were tired from all the excitement.

But this little boy, well, it was hard to tell if he was even alive.

I can’t stop thinking about this family. Praying for them.

Do you ever have that? You see something that burns itself on your heart—simply because you happened to be in a certain place at a certain time.

Do you ever wonder if God does that intentionally? Perhaps He placed me in my car in front of the hospital for the sole purpose of praying for that little boy. Perhaps it was one of those I-have-called-you-for-such-a-time-as-this moments. Perhaps there was a battle going on for that little boy’s life and God was calling an intercessor to stand in the gap. You never know.

Perhaps there are many such moments in our lives that we miss because we’re not paying attention.

Perhaps.

It’s just a thought.

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