Here’s a bird’s eye view — I’m standing outside myself watching the four of us in a prayer circle, centered in my son’s dorm room. Hand-in-hand, I’m between my two sons. My daughter, standing opposite me, between them too. 

I’m speechless as she prays. The words pour out of her like God’s warrior. The words pour out of her as if wired to my heart. They flow with a strength that far surpassed her 23 years of age.

I stood with my children. We held hands tight and clung to every word. She prayed for him with the love of a sister with the wisdom of a minister and faithful heart of a witness. I nodded my head, I couldn’t utter a word; not an amen or a ‘thank you Jesus’ nor a ‘yes, Lord’. God was having His way and I couldn’t interfere. 

She spoke deep into her brother’s soul. We were gathered to at the starting line of his new beginning, yet she made it clear that he was not running the race alone. She even thanked God for the victory. 


As I looked outside myself, I saw clearly, we were doing this last minute move-in a day early because of this very moment. His move in had to be at this moment, on this day — instead of the scheduled date on Saturday, when my daughter wouldn’t be available. 

We were exactly where and when we were supposed to be; receiving her prayer for Oji. 

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