by Joanie Butman
Last week in Bible study when prayer requests were being shared, it was obvious that, as mothers, prayers for our children (of all ages) were at the forefront of our concerns. Children never age-out of their parents’ prayer life. A member of the group shared an answered prayer she received while grieving the tragic death of her daughter. The divine message made Psalm 34:18 come to mind. As she revealed, “He said, ‘You have been giving her to me for many years. Why would you not trust that I have her?’ And then He showed me that she was there, with Him, fully known, fully loved, fully healed.” The Lord is indeed close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit. (Psalm 34:18)
From before they arrived, I’ve always prayed for my children. It’s a parenting privilege we never outgrow. We raise our children according to our beliefs, but at some point, they will begin their own life where our influence is limited at best, and the only thing we have left to offer are our prayers.
Years ago, when my daughter was eight or nine, she was sent to her room as punishment for some childhood infraction. Convinced she was being treated unfairly, she went to her room but not without an Oscar-worthy exit. Later, as was my custom, I stopped by her room to say goodnight. The door was shut with a note attached:
I HATE MOM! I bet you’re not my real mom.
Signed, Your UNloved Daughter
Clearly, I’m not the only writer (or drama queen) in the family. Her notes are infamous and prolific. I’ve saved them all, and it’s reassuring to see the transition from hate mail to some of the most loving, precious letters I will always cherish. One of my favorites is a Christmas gift she made not too long ago with a deck of cards – 52 Things I Love About YOU! Many of her comments surprised and comforted me by realizing she was actually listening all those years. For example, "You taught me the important things in life" or, my favorite, "Your faith."
Regardless, trying not to take the hate message to heart, I thought it best that I let sleeping dogs lie. When I awoke early the next morning, I was lying in bed praying for God to let her know how loved she was. This was around 5:30 am. Then I dozed off again. A little before 6:00 am Hannah came into my room and asked, “Why did you wake me up so early?” I assured her I hadn’t left my bed. She was adamant that I had been in her room. Sleepily, I sent her back to bed for a while. Later on I asked her what time she thought I woke her up – 5:45. “What did I do?” I inquired. “You stood by my bed, put your hand on my forehead and whispered ‘Hannah’ in my ear.” I got goose bumps and that feeling I’ve grown familiar with over the years – sometimes you just know what you know.
I explained what I was doing at about that time. I’m not sure she was as convinced as I was, but I know it was God answering my prayers. The whisper wasn’t necessarily for Hannah, it was for me. It was His still small voice reassuring me, “I’ve got this.” The event brought back memories I have of someone being in my room. Both times it happened were during my adolescence when I was struggling, and I know my mother was in her room praying for me fervently as she still does.
Our children will take paths and make decisions we question (or vehemently oppose), but their choices are theirs alone to make. I don’t pray for my children because I think God needs to be reminded to take care of them; I pray because I need to be reminded that they are His children first. As such, His plan for them will unfold in His perfect timing. I choose to pray so that mytrust in Him may be complete.
It being the Christmas season, Mary is the ultimate example of accepting her role to parent God’s Son as an honor and privilege, while knowing she would ultimately need to surrender Him to the Father’s will. Even so, she stayed with Jesus through His suffering on her knees as we all do for our children. It is the ultimate act of bravery.
