Train them up ...

Tiny too early Jacob laid motionless in an incubator, tubes and wires protruding from his weak little body while I waited for a miracle. I dropped to my knees and begged God for his mercy. I cried out for his help, tears dripping from my chin.

I was barely 22 years old. Jacob was a day old. My first son, the one who came as a surprise, needed a miracle to survive. Barely had I gotten used to being a mother and I feared I'd lose my first chance.

My miracle came. Jacob rebounded with zeal. Twelve days later, he was released from intensive care, and I brought him home. Twelve years later, he doesn't have a single lasting effect from those tumultuous first moments.

I knew his recovery was nothing short of God's grace. I knew he was going to be special.

An infant, Jacob would lay on his changing table. For minutes at a time, he'd stare at the ceiling smiling and cooing at nothing I could see. I had faith he was seeing more than my adult mind could wrap itself around.

A kindergartner, Jacob was in class with a girl who was growing up in a home that embraced atheism. During lunch one day, she announced that she did not believe in God. Jacob looked at her and said, "It doesn't matter if you don't believe in God because he still loves you." Evangelism from a 6-year-old comes straight from a heart inspired by God.

Through the years, we've attended church regularly. Jacob was baptized as a toddler, along with his father and infant brother. That was 2003. He has attended vacation Bible school, church camp and Sunday school. We don't push religion, and I certainly wouldn't label our family as overly religious. We believe, attend church and try to live a good life, but at the same time, we tend to remain private about our beliefs.

This year, Jacob told me he was thinking seriously about being baptized. We discussed it, and I told him it was a choice between himself and God and he should express his desire to the youth minister at church. And as only Jacob could put it, he told me, "Well, mom, I know I was baptized before, but that time, I was just sprinkled, and I think it's going to take more holy water than that."

Nothing else came out of that conversation.

Tonight, I was at a parent meeting for football when I missed a phone call from a Salem number. No one left a message, but I felt a pull to call back the number. Not even thinking, I dialed the number to hear, "Wonder Valley Church Camp." Jacob is at Wonder Valley now attending church camp. My stomach turned. I explained who I was, that I missed a call and that my son was in camp. I called his father next, who also received a missed call from that number. We started to get worried when the number beeped in again. The man on the other end said, "Mrs. Shetler, this is Jeff Prince at Wonder Valley. No one is hurt, injured, sick and nothing is broken, but your son Jacob is next to me and he wants to speak to you." My next thought was that he was homesick. Jacob got on the line and said:

"Mom, I've decided to accept Christ as my Lord and Savior. I've read and studied the scripture, and this is what I want to do. I'm going to be baptized Friday."

Tears of joy couldn't be contained ... I cried and cried some more. Adrenaline pumping through my body at the first thought that he was hurt mixed with feelings of pride and joy. Jacob asked, "Are you crying?" "Yes," I replied. "I am so unbelievably proud of you buddy."

I don't know any other feeling greater than knowing that your son, the one person you love more than life itself, will find eternal life through Jesus. But I shouldn't be surprised. It's been obvious since the beginning that God had a plan for this little guy and has been working on him ever since.

Tonight, I praise God for saving my son, then and now.