He prayed

Of all the days it was today
He chose to say it aloud
Doesn't happen often
rarely spoken

But today was deep blue
My heart felt so heavy
It seemed I could never measure up
To all they seem to need from me

The weight of my lacking as a mom
Crushed my spirit
My weary heat-spent spirit
And I could not be anything
To anyone
In this exhausted state.

So I laid on the bed crying
As silently as I could
So not to upset them
Or so I thought.
And then it happened.

"We should pray for mom."

And then he did.
He laid his hand of faith
On my shoulder
And he prayed.

He prayed with wisdom
beyond his tender 10 years
It was good
It was real
It was amazing
And that would have been enough.
encouraging enough
Cradling my heart in love.

But then it came
He cuddled up on the bed next to me
And stated clearly
"I'm glad you're my parents. I wouldn't want anyone else."

Who could have seen that coming?
Who could have guessed at that?
He prayed
And then became the very answer that I needed.


I wrote this three years ago while we were on a family vacation. I was so worn out and tired and I couldn't seem to please anyone, even in the things I was doing right, which wasn't many things that day or the day before. Some of it was them, but some of it, maybe a lot of it, was me. I needed to rest at the feet of Jesus and be reminded of who it is that is my strength. I had found myself unreasonable and yelling and angry when it was way beyond the moment. Ever been there? The conviction was heavy, and the repentance came swiftly. But somehow the enemy saw the door of opportunity and slinked through to condemn and bite me with accusations and reminders of past failures. He reminded me of how often I had yelled recently. He reminded me that Dad was really fun, but Mom was the party pooper. He reminded me how angry I sounded the whole week whenever anyone spoke to me. He reminded me that these two youngest children of mine were extra treasures that the Lord had entrusted to my "safe" keeping and he reminded me of how much I was failing in this responsibility. And I listened. I absorbed the condemnation and the lies as well as the half truths. I accepted it like candy and didn't question the bearer of such words. They floated into my thoughts with a gentle rush that never alarmed my weary and tired mind.

Now I know better. I know how to raise up the shield of faith and put on the helmet of salvation. I know who I am in the Kingdom and I know to whom I belong. But I was weary and I needed the Body to remind me and to hold me before my Savior's gentle loving healing. I didn't want to "ruin" any more of their fun though and so, I slipped away from my family and laid on the bed to cry as quietly as possible, feeling like failure and VERY sorry for myself.

That's when my son came in and heard me. I tried to pretend I was just sleeping so I wouldn't upset him. But he had already seen and had already been given heavenly orders. "We should pray for mom." His prayer was so to the point and hit all the marks. I knew that the Lord was reminding me that we are children in His Kingdom and need to approach him as such. I knew that the Lord was able to use whomever he chooses to use and that day in late June in the mountains of PA, He chose Tim.

Now I would not have chosen Tim. Not just because he was a 10 year old, but also because up to that point we had seen very little interest spiritually from Tim. I would not have expected him to grasp there was a need, let alone a spiritual need in mom. But there it was. So many things revealed in one short moment.

Jesus reminded through my child, that I was the Father's and needed to come like a child. He showed me that He is working in the life of this son that I saw no indication of His hand, well not much in the child's words or actions. And then the final lesson, Tim never cuddled. Not even as a baby. He didn't encourage. It is not his gifting. But that day (and many since) he cuddled up right next to me and said the only words that would have washed me in the living water of truth and reminded me that I serve an awesome, mighty, loving God who is never late and never tired; who is long suffering and kind even when I have worn out his last nerve. (Does the Infinite Almighty have a last nerve? hmm.)

I had a day similar to that day just today. Only I wasn't completely lost and frazzled. I didn't need to pretend sleep and cry or feel sorry for me. And Tim didn't come to pray over me. However, when I came home and was thinking about what I would write today or pick to print from my writings, I couldn't find what I started to write the other day for this blog. But I found this poem. And again I am refreshed and reminded that I am His and it's "not by might and not by power, but by My Spirit says the Lord." (Zech. 4:6)