[From the archives, exactly a year ago. Still praying for you!]
You know the mom reading this prayer.
You made her a mother.
You sewed the tapestry of her capacity, and You know the big loud demands on her time and energy, sunup to sundown and then some.
You know the fights she fights with her kids, under her roof.
Fights over homework and did-you-flush? Screen-time and piano-practising. Entitlement and set-the-table and no-soccer-in-the-house!
You know the fights she fights for her kids, in the Enormous Out There.
Fights against the bullies and the baddies and the unbiased who unthinkably don’t seem to love her child as much as she does.
You hear the barrage of relentless questions fired at her on any given day, most of which she needs to Google because she doesn’t know the exact year the Romans invaded Gaul or if Saturn’s orbit is elliptical or spherical or if we’ll get plaque on our teeth in Heaven.
You know how many times her sleeves and her heartstrings get tugged and tried and tested and tangled in the furious love of motherhood so that by five in the afternoon –
She. Is. Done.
You know what keeps her up at night – how she’s anxious about her kids’ anxiety levels.
You know about one kid’s wild anger and another kid’s social awkwardness and the best friend who moved and will there be another?
God, You get that there just isn’t always time to do the therapy home programs because there’s swimming and haircuts, play dates and parties and general too-muchness. You see how some days unstitch into chaos, and some days she straightjackets everyone into submission and she’s fighting to be in control of her controlling-ness.
I pray You’d give this mom grace.
Not cheesy Christian-esy copout grace, which has all but lost its meaning from overuse. (As in, ‘Um, would you have grace for me blah blah…’ Read: ‘I made a mediocre effort. Please let me off the hook.’)
I mean real grace, which isn’t just pardon, it’s power.
I’m asking You for powerful grace in this mom’s life.
Undeserved, unearned favour and help for days when she’s not a fantastic mom – just an average mom who loses her temper and her car keys.
Give her grace so at the end of the day, when all her get-up-and-go has already got up and left, there’s something – miraculously! – left of her. Something that remembers she and her people are all on the same team. Something smiling and spontaneous. Maybe even something sexy.
I pray You’d give this mom contentment.
Because content is what she can be if she has food and clothing, and if she’s got WiFi to read this prayer, she’s probably got too much of both. I pray You’d reveal Yourself to her today in such a way that she recognizes You instantly, and knows that everything’s going to be alright in the end. Maybe soon. Maybe much later. But definitely, alright in the end.
I pray that contentment would settle deep in her bones so that if wish-dreams don’t come true, she’ll still be comfortably, happily sure that You’ll bring her to the fullness You’ve planned and that You – wise, well-resourced, loving God – will lead her into all the good works prepared for her.
I pray You’d give this mom perspective.
I pray she’d rest in the truth that the earth is the Lord’s and everything in it. The world and all its people belong to Him. That includes her family, wherever You’ve stuck them by grace and gravity to this planet.
Give her perspective on her home. Help her remember that it will never be perfect, because humans live there. But it can be happy – crammed floor-to-ceiling with love. Help her ease up on trying to fix everything and everyone – ease up on carrying things that aren’t hers to carry, so that her kids learn to own their stuff.
Give her perspective so that she doesn’t awfulize and catastrophize. Rather, let her actualize and normalize, hope and pray.
For me and every other tired mama out there, I pray all this in the matchless name of Jesus, who gently leads those with young,
. . .
Happy weekend to you!
Please share this post with a mom who came to mind.
It’s coming SOOOOOOOON! Prayers for moms of every age, with kids at every stage. Whether your prayer warrior-ing happens between soccer trials or Skype calls or sips of this morning’s cold coffee – I’m really so very excited to share this book with you.
Here’s what’s on the menu if you’re reading this in an email: