C.H. Spurgeon said, “We may be certain that whatever God has made prominent in his Word, he intended to be conspicuous in our lives. If he has said much about prayer, it is because he knows we have much need of it.”
This is my prayer for our three boys this year.
First and foremost I pray that these three precious boys would survive having me as their mama. That my weaknesses, my failures, and my frustrations would not keep them from seeing the kingdom but draw them in, somehow, in your great mercy. If they can endure me, my rampant desire to hug them tight and in but a moment show them the eyes that they know to mean they haven’t listened. If they can outlast my ranting about obedience and honour and the tears that follow when I explain why we so desperately need the covering of God’s grace, well, I’m pretty sure they can survive anything.
I pray that they would see my flaws and understand, case in point, why we need Jesus.
I pray that they would know the consistency of his love when mine may sometimes, to the teenage mind, appear schizophrenic.
I pray that they would hear prayers uttered in darkness while they cozy up under the covers and store away in memory our voices and the comfort they bring and do the same for their babies.
I pray that they would feel the palm pressed against forehead or back or fingers entwined with their own and hear the blessings and know that this is what our hearts so deeply desire for them.
I pray that they would know the truth in their minds, the facts held in the logical side of their brain, the reasons we proclaim you, the documentation and proofs and understand that these are to be held fast.
I pray that they would behold the wonder, ponder the mystery and see the miracles before them every single day and know, with undeniable certainty, the truth.
I pray that they would love you every day of their life. And when they forget that you would still hold them in your grasp.
I plead that you would work out their salvation as you see fit, even if it means being there, deep in the mess, the trenches, the dark nights with them.
I pray that their goal would be you and not neat and tidy.
I pray boldness over them, a willingness to proclaim you in this world.
I pray that they would be instruments, that they would be warriors, that they would be a light shining in darkness. That they would be hands and feet and that they would never, ever be ashamed. And when they are, I pray for grace. recognition. repentance and forgiveness.
I pray for wisdom beyond measure and with that wisdom that they would serve you and you alone.
I pray that they would not be enticed by the evils of this world, that they would not fall into temptation, that they would cling to you knowing there is a lion waiting to pounce. And when they are tempted, and they do fall and the walls are closing in, that they would call out to you, to us, to those around them who can know and help.
I pray that they would never feel alone.
I pray that their hearts would be inclined to the things of you. Things that are lovely and pure and holy.
I pray that they would understand that their purpose is to glorify and enjoy you forever.
I pray that they would cultivate a spirit of peace. Of patience and gentleness and kindness. Of goodness and self-control.
I pray that they would know that they are yours first, ours second and that we are both always always ALWAYS here for them, no matter what. No. Matter. What.
I pray that they would know that their story is yours, never out of your hands, that your plan is perfect, so much better than ours, and that good times and bad, sunshine and rain, each day they wake and breathe and have hearts that beat is one that you have designed for them, may they ever be thankful and joyful in that.
And I pray that when your time for them on this earth has come to an end, that your purposes in and through them have been accomplished, that you would take them home to you.