This happened the week I turned nine. I remember being very excited. I remember trembling in fear.
I must have heard my dad pray in public hundreds of times by then ... using words like may and might and blessings and courage.
Today, I would tweak the bit about standing up "for what they believe" and admonish us all to stand on truth. But otherwise, I notice it was a suitable prayer for me personally as I "involved" myself in government and asked the Lord for strength and wisdom to decide.
What a sweet little seed of calling, planted long ago (back when we covered boxes with shag carpet, feathered our middle-part, and popped one wrist to say "cheese").
