It’s early 2013. Delhi, India. And I’m standing at the bathroom sink. Crying out to the Father. Again.
I can see the marble counter. The dingy mirror. Remember the blur of anguish. Helplessness.
“What are we to do, Lord? How do we help our son?”
The Lord has already made two things clear to me in that season (as detailed in Prodigal, Part 1).
1. Wait. Wait on the Lord.
2. Devote yourself to prayer.
Now I’m standing on the tile floor, in evening shadows. Pleading.
