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1 Timothy Chapter 2 Part 1

4/3/2018

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​“First of all, then, I urge that supplications, prayers, intercessions, and thanksgivings be made for all people, . . ., that we may lead a peaceful and quiet life, godly and dignified in every way. I Timothy 2: 1 – 2 (ESV)

Prayer for Our Children

Help my little one live a peaceful and quiet life, filled with Godliness and holiness that is pleasing unto You, oh Lord. Bring her to a saving knowledge of Your Truth so that she may know Jesus Christ as her great Mediator, and one true God. Use my little one as a herald of the gospel, spreading Your truth to all with whom she encounters. May she lift holy hands in prayer and worship to You in oneness and peace with the body of Christ. ...
It was one of those weeks, you know, the kind where each day stretches out to a mile wide, never ending and long as the sky is high. My poor husband needed to work late every night this week and by Friday, both Sweet one and I were ready for his prompt return.

“I am going to be out of the building no later than 3:30,” he promised Thursday night, looking forward to his own early departure, “I can’t wait to be home with my girls.“

After a week of managing by myself and acting as Sweet one’s sole playmate, I clung to his words like oxygen. Now, let me state here and now, that Sweet one had been an absolute delight, with only minor squirmishes popping up here or there. So, it wasn’t Little girl’s behavior that made the week stretch like a desert wasteland, but rather my inability to drive and get us out of the house. 
     
​This may sound like a minor detail to most people, but to a vision-impaired mom, the ability to find new distractions, activities, new stimuli with which the mind can interact, or to share in fun experiences gained outside the home with my preschooler, is virtually nonexistent. Topping it all off, we did not attend one of her regular scheduled activities and she was off school for one day during the week thus cutting in half much needed Mommy time. So, it was no exaggeration that by Friday, a bad case of cabin fever and a need for adult interaction set in, kept barely in check by my husband’s promise to return home early. 
​By 3:30 that afternoon, I was more than ready for my husband to walk through the door. The entire morning had been a test of patience and self-control as my Little one pushed, prodded, tested, and argued her way through. But despite the stormy seas, the captain of the boat did not panic and stayed true to the course and was now navigating through sunny and calm waters. But, even with the days triumphs tucked in my pocket, I was left weary and drained, sorely needing relief to step in. 
3:30 passed, 3:45, and then 4:00 rolled by with no call from my husband verifying his departure. When 4:15 came and went, my hair felt on fire and a burning inferno threatened to internally combust. 4:25 found me prepping dinner in the kitchen and Sweet one happily amusing herself in delighted play, when my husband finally called. I must confess to you, friends, I was non to pleasant.

“Where are you?!” I demanded, each word as lethal as a thrust of the knife. Silence. “It’s 4:25, and you promised to leave the building by 3:30!” continued my rampage. Dead air.

Sweet one’s little girl chatter broke the silence from the adjoining living room, her delighted play filling the charged atmosphere.

“Why aren’t you home?!” Quietness.

“My boss pulled me in her office before I left to review upcoming changes in the schedules,” came the guarded response.

​On a normal day in a normal week, this response would have instantly calmed my mounting frustration and evoked an immediate empathetic and concerned response, but not today. “But, you promised us!” I cried, tears now threatening to fall, as if to nullify the weight of my husband’s words. “See you when you get home,” I barked and promptly disconnected the call. 
I stood there at the kitchen counter, the feeling of suffocation thick in my lungs and the walls caving in on me. I can’t do this, I just can’t do this anymore my thoughts hyperventilated as I death gripped the edge of the kitchen counter, I need to get out of here, I need to go NOW! screamed an inner voice. 
     
I stood with my hands clenched, clutching the shreds of my sanity, gasping for air, and feeling crammed into a tiny box with airtight, immovable walls. In this moment when inevitable implosion of final countdown teeters at the precipice of sanity, I inhaled what felt like my final breaths. 
     
Help me, was all the internal workings of my mind could muster. No fancy, beautiful constructed prayers, no long, well-orchestrated sentences, just raw, broken, and in desperate need for intervention. I can’t do this, I confessed, tears streaming down my cheeks, I need Your help, Lord, because I just can’t, I don’t have the strength. My chest squeezed tight, every muscle in my body tense in an effort to stay rooted and not flee the premises. Hold me together, I pleaded heavenward. 
Then, surrounded by carrot slices, chopped onion, and minced fennel prongs, dirty dishes piling in the sink, and a simmering pot on the range, a sweet breath whispered in my ear. Listen to Sweet girl, doesn’t she sound like she is having fun? Came the proud voice of the Father. She’s doing a fantastic job entertaining herself, isn’t she. The gentle, inner voice continued, aren’t you grateful the battles were saved for earlier today and not now? The unexpected thought of gratitude stopped my mad careen downwards and diffused the impending mushroom cloud.

“Mommy,” called the happy tones of my sweet girl, “will you please come and help me?”

Wiping away my tears, I breathed deep and fought for self-control. “Yes, Sweet pea,” I answered with infused brightness, “I’ll be right there.” Pasting a smile on my face, I squared my shoulders, and walked in to tend to my daughter.
The moments which followed, gentle in their sweetness, innocent in their childish delight, and all little girl cuteness, smiled over me with sparkle and joy. It washed like summer rains stamping out fierce forest fires and leaving life in it’s wake. As I walked away, successfully completing Sweet one’s bidding, a sweetness of the soul resonated deep within me, lifting the smothering walls of prison out into the heavens. 
     
A smile tugging on the corners of my lips, I returned to meal prep and breathed deep the sounds of innocent child’s play. Your grace is enough, floated words from a praise song through my head as my rudimentary cutlery skills wreaked havoc on a stalk of celery. Your grace is enough, your grace is enough for me. Infiltrating rays of sunshine poured into the parched recesses of my heart, calming and soothing the clawing beast within. Your grace is sufficient, I whispered, claiming the promise and trapping it in my heart, your grace will be sufficient for me. I breathed God’s promises in and out. I will be okay, I told myself, you will hold me together. 
And as the clock tick-tocked, as dinner bubbled in the pot, and as Sweet one chattered to her stuffed animals in the living room, the hands which had gripped tight, now loosened and relaxed their hold in the light of God’s word and promises. For in my moment of need, where the mind and spirit scream for relief and release, God met me where I was and poured out His grace through the gift of the Holy Spirit -  renewing, restoring, and granting me strength. 
     
​Remember dear friends and fellow parents, that in your moments of struggle, in our times of desperation, when there doesn’t seem to be a way out, cry out to God and He will send you a Helper that will minister to your heart, soul, and mind. For it is through the aid of the Holy Spirit that we can begin to live life more abundantly and with greater joy, peace, and purpose. He is our Advocate, our Aide, our Helper, and Defender in our times of distress. God doesn’t promise us lives of leisure, richness, ease, or pleasure, but He does promise us joy, love, peace, and contentment if we live by the Spirit and keep in step with Him. He promises grace sufficient for our needs, strength for today, hope for tomorrow, and life everlasting.

A Parent's Prayer

Oh God, may Your grace me more than enough for me this day, help me to claim Your promises and allow them to illuminate my life. Oh Lord, help me live in the abundance of Your Holy Spirit today and strengthen me for tomorrow. Anoint my head with Your oil of joy and make me new again, renewing and restoring my heart to You.
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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
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