re·form: (r-fôrm) v. re·formed, re·form·ing, re·forms v. tr. 1. To improve by alteration, correction of error, or removal of defects; put into a better form or condition. 2. To cause (a person) to give up harmful or immoral practices; persuade to adopt a better way of life.
ma·ma or mam·ma also mom·ma: n. (also m-mä) Informal. Mother.


Mommy's Little Sinner

I think you can probably tell that I think my son is about the cutest, most wonderful thing EVER. To me, he is absolutely 100% amazing. Even still, he is my little sinner.

When they called me on the intercom to tell me Eddie's stats after he had been whisked away to the NICU they tild me he was born "officially" at 3:23 AM. Almost immediately I asked Ed to recite Romans 3:23 for me and instantly Eddie became our little sinner.

While Eddie hasn't committed an outright sin yet, he is a sinner nonetheless. He has a heart that is wicked and capable of wretched things. He is dead in his sin. My son is a dead boy walking... or attempting to walk.

For him, the effects of sin in his life have not really begun to show so much. My parents and brothers though, who are still dead in their trespasses, look dead. (This is a spinoff from Challies post today, but it's been on my mind for a day or two.)

When I visit my family, I can clearly see the results of sin in their lives. They look tired and haggard and unclean and well... dead. And aside from praying for them and sharing the Word with them, there is not a thing I can do to "revive" them.

Sometimes I wonder why I am saved and they are not. I certainly did not do anything do deserve salvation. I believe God calls some to salvation and others, well... are not called. Why did God choose me and why has he not called my family yet? I don't know.

There are days when I am greatly saddened by this -- of course. I don't want my family to be eternally separated from God. What a devastating thought.

Then, there are days when... I dunno how to describe it. It's not that I am happy my family is lost - that's not it at all. But I am filled with awe that I was chosen. It's humbling that a wretch like me would be chosen for salvation. I am overcome with gratitude that God would love me enough to call me unto Himself. And I have hope that God may still call my family to salvation. I am filled with peace that God is sovereign and knows EXACTLY what He is doing.

I can only assume that someone somewhere prayed for me. It could have been a Sunday School teacher, a friend or even an ancestor who was godly and prayed that a remnant would be left in the family. I have no idea.

I have an obligation to continually pray for my parents and my brothers. I have an even bigger obligation to pray for my little sinner. I must raise him in a home that loves the Lord. I must teach him the Word and he must see God working and active in Ed and me. I must trust God with my son's life. Aside from that... I can do nothing to aide in my son's salvation. Salvation is the Lord's work.


Blogger Carrie said...

I know exactly how you feel. My heart breaks for those who don't know the Savior but sometimes it reminds me how overwhelmingly lucky I am that I know him. That he chose ME.

1:14 PM

Blogger Paula said...

This post has been featured at the following site:

Thanks for your inspiration.

12:16 AM

Blogger Wendy said...

Great post! I have very similar thoughts about my family.

9:52 AM


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