Category Archives: Prayers
Dear God, Is it true my father won’t get in heaven if he uses his bowling words in the house? – Anita
Did you really mean Do Unto Others As They Do Unto You, because if you did then I’m going to fix my brother. – Darla
God: the bad people laughed at Noah – you make an ark on dry land you fool. But he was smart he stuck with you. That’s what I would do. – Eddie
Dear God, I bet it is very hard for you to love all of everybody in the whole world. There are only 4 people in our family and I can never do it. – Nan
Dear Lord, How do I know that you hear my prayers? Could you please give me a sign like leaving me a $10 bill under my pillow? – Gloria
You who said, “Come unto me all ye who are weary and heavy-laden and I will give you rest,” I come to you now.
For I am weary indeed. Mentally and physically I am bone-tired. I am all wound up, locked up tight with tension. I am too tired to eat. Too tired to think. Too tired even to sleep. I feel close to the point of exhaustion.
Lord, let your healing love flow through me.
I can feel it easing my tensions. Thank you. I can feel my body relaxing. Thank You. I can feel my mind begin to get calm and quiet and composed.
Thank you for unwinding me, Lord, for unlocking me. I am no longer tight and frozen with tiredness, but flowing freely, softly, gently into your healing rest.
I’ve Got to Talk to Somebody, God
“Lord, make me childlike. Deliver me from the urge to compete with another for place or prestige or position. I would be simple and artless as a little child.
Deliver me from pose and pretense. Forgive me for thinking of myself. Help me to forget myself and find my true peace in beholding Thee. That Thou mayest answer this prayer, I humble myself before Thee.
Lay upon me Thy easy yoke of self-forgetfulness that through it I may find rest. Amen”
– A. W. Tozer, The Pursuit of God
The prayer of my five-year-old one summer evening shocked me with a glimpse into a child’s mind and heart. More than that, it impressed me of the awesome responsibility of being a parent. The importance of listening to, understanding, and guiding my children’s thoughts and resultant conclusions in a way that will enable them to grow into adults with wisdom, love, and concern for those around them.
I read my children a devotional that touched on the concept that even though we want to do the right things, sometimes we will end up doing the wrong things. Sometimes while we read, my five-year-old is in an entirely different world mentally. But this time, he asked about it. His question seemed an attempt to say, “Let me get this straight … is this how it works?”
“Mommy, people want to do the right thing, but they can’t sometimes?”
“Sometimes,” I answered.
“But that’s why Jesus died for them. Because they can’t do all the right things … but He still loves us?”
“That’s right,” I said, wondering what about that concept made him suddenly tune into what we had been reading.
The day passed like most of the summer days had. Trying to inspire them to do their chores. Spending a few hours at the water park. Asking them to clean up their rooms and hearing all the reasons why that particular mess really isn’t theirs or really shouldn’t be cleaned up at the moment. Stepping in to help them resolve issues.
The evening rolled around. After snack time, getting-ready-for-bed issues and finding stuffed animals, we gathered into the living room to pray.
“Jesus,” my five-year-old son started before the rest of us had even closed our eyes, “you know, there are lots of people who don’t do the right things and some of them want to do the right things.”
I glanced over at him. His eyes were squeezed shut and his hands clasped together in front of him. But his conversational tone of voice sounded just like he was chatting with a friend. A good friend. A best Friend.
“Help them to know you, to know that you died for them to forgive them for their sins.” He said a few more sentences, which I can’t remember. It was one of those moments I wish I had a video camera or audio recorder handy. I would have loved to record those precious words that came from his heart.
But I know they’re recorded Somewhere. By Someone who hears the prayer of every one of his children, even (and possibly especially) the ones who don’t pray because they feel they have to or because it’s just the expected thing to do. By Someone who hears every prayer from a sincere heart.
Somewhere along the way, my son discovered a Friend who has entered his heart and touches his life in a way he can’t exactly understand or express. (After all, none of us can ever entirely understand or express God’s infinite love and care).
My heart was full of a whole lot I can’t quite put into words as I listened to him pray with a simple desire for others to know and understand that same Love. To meet that same Friend. To know the one who died to forgive their sins.
At the end of his prayer, all I could really say was, “Amen.”
Compared to some mothers (my mom, for starters), I’m fairly new to the motherhood game. This is my tenth Mother’s Day as a mom.
It seems the first where recent months have been filled with never-before-faced issues with my children. If you are a parent, the fact that I’ve been at it for roughly ten years has probably clued you in on an important factor: my oldest is a “tween.”
Up until now, I looked back on my teen years and comforted myself with the thought that, “By the time I was 12, I knew what I wanted to do in life. By the time I was 15, I was doing it.” (Never mind the fact that it was over ten years later that I discovered what I REALLY loved doing: writing. The experiences leading to that discovery served and helped me in a thousand great ways … but I’m rabbit trailing.)
In any case, I never went through a horrendous, wrenching “teen stage” and simply assumed the whole teenhood-filled-with-angst was overrated. Something modern culture welcomed with open arms to the detriment of expecting a progressive development of maturity.
But up there on my soapbox, I neglected to clearly glance back at my own tweenhood. It started when I was about nine. I dealt with self-doubt, anxiety, comparing, and questioning. A lot of it went on in my head because I rarely felt comfortable venting negativity about myself, my siblings, and my sorry lot in life. After all, someone might have actually talked some sense into me, and who wants to see clearly when they’re taking a mental mud bath?
So I’m remembering those tween days and looking with increasing trepidation upon my children entering that very stage. (My oldest is now nine.) Considering the moodiness, sullenness, and downright contrariness I have been facing regularly, I’m wondering if it’s too late to have second thoughts about this stage of parenting. (Are other options available?)
As my mom drove me to a book sale last week, I talked to her about some of my parenting concerns. She listened, gave me a bit of advice and insight on what my kids might be thinking. She brought up considerations I hadn’t thought of. And she listened some more. Because that’s just what moms do.
I looked over at her. She survived those years. Looking at some of the things she faced with the six of us, she passed with flying colors! Then, after acing her motherhood career, she began a new career that is remarkable in every way.
My mother is now a home-birth midwife. I don’t know how many babies she has “caught” over the past fifteen years, but I know that her love, concern, and prayers have blessed scores of mommies, babies, and dads in countless ways.
I’ve got the world’s best mom. I know that for a fact. I also know that with her faith and prayers, this parenting thing will turn out okay. Yes, even parenting tweens. And beyond that, teens. And beyond that …
Okay, I’ll try not to get ahead of myself.
Today is today … and it’s Mother’s Day.
Happy Mother’s Day! To my terrific mom, and to all you awesome mothers, of babies, kids, tweens, teens, or adults. They’ll always be your children. And your love for them is unconditional.
Because that’s just what moms do.
It’s not easy, in the midst of a myriad of parenting duties, to keep in mind that one day these children will be grown. One day – sooner probably than I realize – my influence in their lives will no longer be the same. Yes, I will always be their mother, but the mommy dynamics change drastically once they move out. Move out? Ack! (Breathe. Just breathe.)
One day each of my children will come to recognize their God-given calling and realize their life’s passions. One day each of them will reach the point where they have to decide what path they will take. Will it be the road less traveled?
I hope. I pray.
And I think that a major factor that will help to answer that question is my frame of mind as their mother. (The same for fathers too.) If I strive to see every day as an opportunity to prepare them for the day they will be making their own decisions, determining their own road, it just might make a difference.
I hope. I pray.
That they will thrill to the idea of serving God and helping others, find joy in living a life of purpose, and feel the sheer delight of delighting in God and finding that their heart’s deepest desires are returned to them … Or transformed into something greater, deeper, more glorious.
That they will come to know, in the midst of joy or sorrow, a Presence that remains with them through it all. And that during every step they take, they will feel the support and love of their father and me.
I hope. I pray.
Only you know what you have in store for them. What you will ask of them. How you have planned to them to learn of you and work with you to change the world.
Work in their lives to prepare them for the future you have designed for each one specifically. Give them strength, wisdom, and joy. Help them to fulfill their unique destinies. To make a different in this world – whether small or great. The difference you have planned in the way you have ordained.
And help me as their mother to watch over them as well. To teach them. To train them. To be an image of your love, your patience, your insight, your care.
Things will come up today that will threaten my peace or theirs. Bring your spirit full and wondrous into this household, your love that veils all things that are wrong or hurtful or sad. Instead, bring hope, a spirit of humility and love, a mind of eagerness and wonder, a heart of strength and purpose.
Help me remember, today and every day, that they are your children given to me on loan for only a short time. Help me love and care for them with my whole heart … and to remember your love and care for them as a Father.
Thank you for your love and your care for all of us, your children.
This week, I started a blog on the theme of finding a purposed life.
This evening, while I was cooking dinner, I remembered a song that was shown during the writer’s conference I attended earlier this month. The song, “To Believe,” is sung by Jackie Evancho, a ten-year-old girl with the voice of an angel. When I first heard it, tears came to my eyes at the depth of the words … and of the girl who sang the song.
This evening, I showed it to my husband, and he called the kids in to watch it. Again, I was moved to tears. At the song, yes, and the singer. And also at the thought that such a young girl has found her purpose — stated in her prayer in the middle of the song:
Father, as you see, I’m just a child
And there’s so much to understand
But if Your Grace should surround me
Then I’ll do the best I can
I promise, I’ll do the very best I can
My prayer for my children is that they will make this the prayer of their hearts as well. And that they will believe … always believe, that their lives have a purpose, that their every prayer is heard, and that they are made in the loving image of God.
Families were torn apart this past week when a tornado ripped through their homes and devastated their lives.
Parents lost children. I can’t imagine the sorrow and pain they face now, but you know, and you care.
Lord, bring them comfort.
Help them to know their children are your children too, and that you hold them in your arms, safe and secure in a place where there is no more sorrow or fear.
These same parents are having to now rebuild their homes, and their lives. Be their foundation as they build. Be their cornerstone, and their strong tower.
And as they rebuild, let them find rest and hope beneath the shadow of your wing.
Children lost parents. From one day to the next, their world has become a frightening and unsure place.
Father, they are your children, and you care for them like no other. Give them comfort and draw them near.
Let angels be at their side, so close they can feel them and know they are not alone.
As they try to make sense of their world, let them see through your eyes, and help them know there is a home beyond this one, a forever home, where they will be together again.
Pour grace, hope, and love into each life affected by this tragedy as only you can. Grace that grows greater and stronger than the deepest sorrow. Hope that sees beyond the rubble of today. And love, your love, that lasts forever. It goes beyond the temporary separation of death by entwining each life with your golden strands of love that will never be severed or broken.
In the name of Jesus, who took time for the children and said that the Father’s kingdom is made up of ones like them, be with your children — young and old — and help them find hope and healing in your arms.