Lifting my head from my pillow one morning, a sharp pain shot through my neck. “Ouch,” I groaned. “I must have slept wrong last night.” It was a stiff neck, the likes of which I had never experienced. With two young boys, Richard, twelve, and Michael, eight, I knew I needed to get on with my day — stiff neck or not.
Although I took a couple painkillers to help reduce the discomfort, the stiffness remained all day. It only seemed to get worse. By dinnertime, when my husband, Steve, came home from work, I told him I planned to see a doctor the next day. “There must be something else going on besides a bad night's sleep,” I concluded. “I've never felt such pain from a stiff neck.”
By bedtime, I had to opt out of our usual routine with the kids. After Richard and Michael had their pajamas on, they expected me to come to their bedroom for night-time prayers. “Steve, I just can't do it tonight,” I said. “My neck hurts too much. Will you please go and say prayers with them?”
The boys gingerly kissed me good night and reluctantly skipped the usual hugs. It would just hurt too much. “I hope you feel better,” Michael comforted me, looking into my face.
“Thanks. I'm sure I will,” I reassured him.
When Steve returned from saying goodnight to the boys, he told me they had prayed for my neck. “That's nice, honey,” I said, somewhat distracted by the pain. A few minutes later Michael was out of his room and in the hall, looking into the room.
“Mom,” he announced, “I prayed for you to be healed.”
“I know, honey,” I said. “Thank you.” He turned to leave but then paused and turned back.
“Is your neck feeling better?” he asked.
My neck was not one bit better. I looked into my son's trusting eyes and considered my throbbing pain. How could I answer no? I could not disappoint such a strong faith.
“Yes,” I lied. “It feels a little bit better.”
His face lit up with a smile. But then he started running toward me. Horrified, I realized that he was going to hug me. “Oh no!” I thought in a panic. “Don't let me cry out and disappoint him,” I prayed.
I braced myself for a hug that was sure to hurt. But as Michael wrapped his arms around me, all pain vanished. Shocked, I stood up and moved my neck around. The pain was gone; every last trace of it. “Michael, my neck really is better!” I cried. “It's completely healed!” I was in awe.
That night Michael was a very happy little boy and I was his very enlightened mother. I thought I was the one who had to give Michael his faith. I learned it was not me but God who would ultimately handle that job. When Jesus told us that faith the size of a mustard seed could move mountains, my son believed Him. His sure faith moved the pain right out of my neck.
Mary Frovarp and her husband, Steve, live in Hazen, North Dakota. Their sons, Richard and Michael, are now attending college.
This article appeared in Amazing Grace for Mothers. Mary Frovarp is a contributor to Amazing Grace for Mothers, a collection of 101 stories of faith, inspiration, hope, and humor. To learn more, visit AmazingGraceOnline.
