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I can't begin to count the number of times that prayer has played an important part in my life. As often as God has answered my prayers, I realize it's important to pray for others, too. So when my church, Maranatha Assembly of God, started a Tuesday night prayer service, I became a regular participant.

The pastor sometimes would begin with a short devotion, and then we'd sing a couple of praise choruses before getting down to serious conversations with God. From the beginning, we knew we were there to pray.

During the first few months, attendance was sparse. Those who came gave their prayer requests and there'd still be plenty of time to bring them to the Lord. However, as prayers were answered, more people joined and the number of requests multiplied. It took most of the service to hear all the requests.

The pastor solved the problem with a sign-in sheet in the foyer. Now when we arrive for the service, we write down our prayer requests on this sheet. During our praise time, the pastor makes a copy of these requests for each person. With list in hand, we find a quiet place to pray individually.

One Tuesday early in 1997, attendance was unusually low and our prayer list was short. I prayed for each need listed. I prayed for the church, our community, our state, and our country. Then I prayed over the list again.

I looked at my watch thinking the hour ought to be up. I still have 15 minutes left! There has to be something more I can pray about, I thought. As determined as I was to continue praying, my mind was blank. So I began reflecting on my personal life and praising God for all the blessings he had sent my way.

Then my son came to mind. I had not seen Teddy for 27 years. When he was less than a year old, his mother and I had divorced, and she moved with Teddy out of state. I smiled to myself as I thought back to those months with my firstborn son. I would get off the bus from work and could hear him crying half a block away. As soon as I walked into his room, his cries turned into laughter.

After the divorce, I made an effort to keep in touch, but my first letters were returned unopened. Later they were marked, "Addressee moved, left no forwarding address." I had no idea where either Teddy or his mother lived.

When Teddy was about five, I learned through an attorney that my ex-wife had remarried and her new husband wanted to adopt my son. I agonized over my decision.

The attorney wouldn't disclose Teddy's whereabouts unless I chose to seek custodial rights. But a custody battle might forfeit any chance for Teddy to enjoy a stable life. I reasoned: Teddy doesn't know me. Would it really be fair to deny him a father to satisfy my own need to see him? Would my selfishness cause more emotional damage?

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