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Prayer Over Our Children

Do you pray like I do for your child? Hoping and asking the Lord to guide their growth and hear our cries on their behalf? Please join me in praying Scripture over our children by reading a chapter a day from a book of the Bible.
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​My prayer for you, as it is for me, is that you and your children's lives will be transformed, touched and knit together by the power of the Holy Spirit.  ~ Marjorie Wingert, walking by faith and not by sight


"But those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint." (Isaiah 40:31)
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1 John Chapter 4

2/29/2020

1 Comment

 
“We love, because He first loved us.” ~ I John 4:19 (NASB)

A Prayer Over Our Children

May my child test each spirit so that she will not be led astray by false teachers. I pray that she will know and worship You. Claim her as Your own and let her live victoriously in You as an overcomer. May You  be greater in her then the one who is in the world. Oh God, give her listening ears and a spirit of discernment so that she may know truth from lies. Fill her with love so that she may know You. For You are love, You, who have sent Your only Son from heaven to earth to die as an atonement for our sins. Make Your love complete in her. Abide in her and let her likewise abide in You through Your Spirit and Your love. Oh God, drive out all fear from her by Your perfect love that she may be filled with love for all people. Amen. ...
Angst cut me like tiny shards of glass beneath my skin. Anger, sadness, frustration, and helplessness all warred for expression, making me a roller coaster ride of emotions. It did not help that my self-control was paper thin to non-existent or that my tears were barely kept at bay. Nor did it help that it was a “go-go-go” weekend where we sprinted to get everything done in a short window of time. I felt like an inferno ready to explode. I felt like I was losing control. All I wanted to do was hide beneath the covers and not come out. In short, I was one hot mess.
     
It was a horrible weekend. A trifecta of monumental issues gone awry from the very start. Plus, an impending visit from good-old, “Aunt Flo,” was about to descend like the plague of wrath upon my body. I also regret to say that my tongue exacerbated the situation. Shall I say that milk and honey flowed not from my lips but sharp words and angry accusations instead.
     
“I can’t do this anymore!” I suddenly cried, veering sharply away from my husband and daughter. We were in a parking lot, headed to purchase flowers for a friend. But the straw had finally broken the camel’s back. “I’ve had enough! I’m leaving!”

I pushed away my husband’s hand and stomped away with my cane. What had just transpired pushed me over the edge and I was done.  Too many layers of problems and issues had piled throughout the day. Too many loved ones hurting. Too many people vying for control at the expense of others. Too much uncertainty. Too much…
     
Uncaring of what my husband and daughter thought or the people milling around me, I stalked homeward. A well familiar traveled route in my daily comings and goings, I easily navigated through the parking lot. Hot indignation burned within me. Tap-tap, tap-tap, went the sharp staccato raps of my cane against the pavement. 
     
It’s not fair, it’s not right! my thoughts inwardly blazed as tears pushed hot against the corner of my eyes. I paused a moment as sounds of children laughing and playing filled the air. Wind rustled the trees and air brushed against my cheek. Then… bing! I checked my phone for the message. More bad news. Very bad news.
     
Home, I inwardly cried, I just want to get home. Straight to my door I went…only to find out I did not have my keys. They were locked inside. Helplessly, I stared at the screen door feeling foolish and dumb. Tears now rolled down my cheeks. Of all the times to be without my keys, it had to be today. It had to be now. My triumphant march homeward was now ruined, smacked in the face by humble pie. I began to sniffle and then sob.  
     
Reign it back in, railed the inner voice that despises loss of control, get it together, it sternly commanded. Leaning against my cane, I wiped my cheeks and breathed deep. With my cell phone looking expectantly at me, I considered my options. I can’t go back to my husband and ask for his keys, my pride dictated, I refuse to give him the satisfaction. I debated going to a neighbor’s house but quickly ruled this option out. I did not want to talk to anyone yet. I had no words. Just tears. 
     
I stood on my front stoop wondering what to do. No matter what I determined, I will not be found waiting when they return. I will not! Faint rays of light pressed through the eaves of leaves and branches. The sunshine set low on the horizon, but the air still held onto its warmth. A thought popped into my mind. A walk! Knowing my mind needed cleared and my temper cooled, a walk presented itself as the perfect solution. So, with a tap-tap, tap-tap, off I went to circle the neighborhood.
     
When I returned, I felt grimly satisfied that my husband and daughter were home, glad that I had not been found waiting on the front stoop. Yet, as I rang the doorbell to be let in, I did my best to reign my still raging emotions under control.
     
“Mommy!” exclaimed my happy little girl. She greeted me with a hug and a kiss. “Did you get lost?” Sweet Pea bounced up and down.
     
“No,” I answered simply, “I went for a walk.” Throwing my cane into its corner and tossing off my shoes, I rushed to ready dinner. Thankful for the frozen white chicken chili which sat defrosting on the counter, my fingers flew to grab the skillet. The broth soon bubbled and steamed as I mixed in the cream cheese. Salad was tossed and dinner was ready.
     
An awkward silence settled over the table, interrupted by the happy chatter of Sweet Pea. Oblivious to the charged undercurrent, she prattled on. I pretended to listen, but my thoughts were far away. The horrendous mess of the day rushed back to me in a torrent of emotions. Forefront and center was the bad news I just received. A tear rolled down my cheek. And then another. And another.
     
“I’m so sorry I’ve been so grumpy,” I suddenly blubbered. Tears flowed freely down my cheeks. The deluge had finally burst, and it now spilled out onto the dinner table. “I’m so sorry I’ve been grumpy,” I repeated to both my husband and daughter. “I’ve been so worried and stressed,” I explained. “Will you please forgive me?”  My shoulders shook and my nose snuffled with emotion. 
     
“Will you forgive me, Sweet Pea?” I mournfully asked my little girl. She looked at me with kindness and maturity beyond her young years.
     
“Yes, Mommy,” her soft tones answered, “I forgive you.” Her voice gentled even more. “I forgive you, Mommy.” Then she paused, thoughtfully weighing her words. “It’s okay to cry, Mommy,” she gave permission with a nod, “I love you just as you are.”

Her eyes were tender. A gentle smile graced her face. Sweet Pea’s words of affirmation and attempts to soothe suddenly painted the backwards picture in my mind’s eye. The child showing grace to the parent when it should be parent exhibiting grace to her child. The role reversal combined with the unexpected words of my daughter startled me into laughter. 
     
“Oh, Sweet Pea,” I hiccuped through my tears, “You are making me laugh!” A fresh wave of tears watered my face as my body shook with mirth.
     
Sweet Pea jumped off her seat and ran to scramble onto my lap. Her little girl arms reached around to hug me close.
     
“There, there. There, there,” she soothed, resting her chin on my shoulder, “Just cry it out. Cry it out. It’s okay.” Her sweet hand patted my back, my shoulder, and anything else she could touch. Sweet kisses rained down on my head and squeezes galore abounded. And cry I did. Tears of sadness and pain mingled with tears of laughter and love.
     
Later, after forgiveness was ascertained from both husband and child, I confined myself to the bedroom. Weighed down by the unsettling news of the day combined with a host of other issues, I crawled underneath the covers for a good cry. I felt like a limp noodle and an emotional wreck. Once more the deluge burst open…but this time it was different. This time there was strength beneath the storm.
     
Get up! The still, soft voice commanded. The Holy Spirit’s silent utterings cut clear and razor sharp through my groanings. Get up, the Holy Spirit ordered, and do not become a blob who is useless and ineffective. The words startled me. Even my tears halted in mid-waterfall.
     
Get up and do not let this prevent you from accomplishing work for my Kingdom. The Holy Spirit’s message was unmistakable. Do not let this whirlwind render you powerless. Do not succumb to the storm.
     
Still sniveling beneath the bed covers, I lay faced with a choice. Stay knocked down or get up. Let these blows incapacitate me or stay in the fight. Be rendered useless or come back stronger. So, there, on my bed, I made a choice. I yielded. Not to my own understanding and not to what made earthly sense, but an act of faith to rise and stand once more. A decision to trust and obey even when my emotional, physical, and mental state of mind screamed otherwise.
     
So often when storms pummel against our very souls, we are tempted to raise our hands in surrender. We get knocked down and we do not want to get back up. Sometimes, if we are honest, we do not even possess the strength or desire to rise. In these times, we need to lean upon the Lord. For without His strength, without His power, we cannot keep standing. We cannot keep moving ahead.
     
Although our legs may shake and our understanding may falter, through the power of the Holy Spirit, He will lift us up and set our feet upon the Rock. 
     
Yes, there is a place to pause, to be still, and yield before the Lord. Yes, there is a time to mourn and cry out. But sometimes our place is to not tarry long but keep moving forward for the Kingdom. To keep stepping and still believing. To be in a posture of weakness yet willingness. For it is when we enter this posture of absolute weakness and total dependency upon the Lord, that He often moves the mightiest. Why? Because it is out of our total weakness and inability to orchestrate anything out of our own strength, that we finally rely solely upon the Lord and His power. And it is when we are at our weakest that God’s power shines the brightest and often moves the mightiest. For when we are weak, He is strong.
     
​Dearest friends and parents, how I pray each of you will be a witness of the Holy Spirit’s power this day. May His Spirit fill you, reside in you, and rest upon you. I pray that in your weakness, you will be made strong. May you do exceedingly more and beyond this day as a testimony of God’s great might, goodness, and deep love.

A Parent's Prayer

Oh God, let Your Spirit rest upon me and fill me with the power of Your Holy Spirit. Go out with me this day, oh God, and let Your Spirit be my guide. Light my path and keep me from stumbling as I lean on You for strength. Fill me to overflowing so that when I am weak, You help me to stand. Oh God, when the storm winds blow, keep my eyes fixed on You. Empower me this day with Your Holy Spirit. Amen.
1 Comment
Mom
3/3/2020 09:09:40

This is an excellent piece. Thank you for sharing heart and experience. Much love, Mom

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    Inspirational writer and speaker Marjorie Wingert blogs about motherhood, family and more from a Christian perspective.

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    Married to my best friend for over 20 years, my husband and I are the proud (and often exhausted!) parents of a vivacious kindergatener. As a vision-impaired mom, prayer and trust in the Lord play a vital and moment-to-moment role in my life. Read more ...

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  • Prayer Over Our Children
    • Subscribe
  • Meditations
  • About
    • About Marjorie
    • About Prayer Over Our Children Blog
  • Books and Music
    • Feeling the Music Book
    • Meet Mr. Caleb
    • Sing Along With Mr. Caleb CD
  • Speaking and Events
  • Media Room
  • Contact