Florida bound.  The first few hours were dark, rainy, and dreamy.  3:30 am we left Des Moines, headed further south and further away than any of us had been.  And I prayed.  As my family slept, I spoke to Jesus about the van, the weather, the road, my alertness, the trip, the dreams...Each hour on the hour we talked.  Morning broke, and the fam joined in.  All the way to Nashville, all the way to Florida, every hour (or close to it), we prayed.  The kids reminded us; they took turns.  From profound to silly, we prayed.  Petitions for safety, for rest, for joy, for praise.   

Throughout our trip we prayed.  Every morning, meals, nighttime.  The kids again reminded us, drove home HOW IMPORTANT this is.  And they prayed well...beautifully...simply...honestly.  For Haiti, and Chile.  For Mommy and Daddy.  Thanks for having good days.  Each night ended as it began.  Seems like the threads of prayer wove themselves around us and through us as we vacationed.  And this impacted how we lived together in a hotel for a week, how we travelled together in a loaded down van, how we viewed the world around us.  The kids were quick to give up a spot in line, to 'care' for those around us.  Prayer opened something up in them (and in us) for a time that I hope remains.  Gotta believe that time soaked in God's presence had something significant to do with this.

So today -- we prayed.  For the morning, for school, for the world around us.  And prayed that we could have the chance to tell people, through word and deed, just how great this God who shapes us through prayer is.