“Pursue peace with all men, and the sanctification without which no one will see the Lord.” Hebrews 12:14, NASB Prayer Over Our ChildrenLet my daughter live a life of holiness and harmony so that all those with whom she meets will see You. Make Your grace richly abound in her life while You keep bitterness from possessing any foothold. Oh God, I pray You will keep her sexually pure, strengthening her and protecting her against temptation. Usher my child into the presence of rejoicing angels and sanctified saints with You as Judge and Jesus as Mediator, through the blood of His holy sacrifice. Oh Lord, write her name in heaven and bless her with a heart of thanksgiving which overflows as reverent offerings of worship to You. I pray she will always remain steadfast and firm in her faith as an heir to Your Kingdom which will always remain and never be shaken. Oh God, be a holy and consuming fire in her life. ... “Oh no!” My fumbling hand and unseeing eyes toppled over yet another cup on the kitchen table. Water poured everywhere, soaking the magazines, papers, and contents strewn over the kitchen table. It rained onto the wood floor and spread out like a flood spilling over its banks. Disastrous and catastrophic it was not, but a reminder of my unseeing eyes it was. It was a painful reminder that my eyes could not see what most other eyes could see, that my eyes can not guide me around the daily grenades of life, and that my searching fingers were not enough to protect me from ruin. It was just one more added layer to the mounting pile of frustration and irritation which threatened to steal my joy. See how clumsy you are? Whispered that voice of derision, it will never get any better because you can’t see and will never be able to see. The inner voices taunted me, tearing me down from the inside out. Fellow friends, parents, and family, I confess to you that self-pity and anger started to take root in my heart. Tears pricked at my eyes and I blinked hard to keep the dam from bursting. “It’s so unfair, Lord,” I whispered, ”what good am I if I can’t even navigate a kitchen table without disaster?” Frantically, I searched for tee towels, or any towel for that matter, which added to the growing mushroom cloud, as my fingers could not quickly locate something to sop up the mess. The over-baked cornbread stood staring at me with it’s dried, crusty outsides while the flavorless chili sat dully on the oven range with the questionable sour cream sitting as an uncertain companion. Grrr, I inwardly grumbled, patting down the counters for the highly esteemed dish towel. “Got it!” I exclaimed, finally locating the illusive cloth. I wiped the table and the floor with hurried strokes, feeling every inch with my fingers and toes so not to miss the puddles my eyes could not see. “Mommy!” called a bright voice, “Can you please help me?” “Coming!” I finished sopping up the puddling liquid. “Just a moment!” I threw the wet towel in the washing machine and rushed up the hallway, Time was ticking by quickly and the hour was late. As I rounded the corner, Sweet Pea met me enthusiastically at the doorway. “Can you help me get a dress down?” she asked, “I can’t reach it.” She led the way to the closet and tugged on a soft, velveteen material. “Of course, dear.” I yanked the dress off non-too carefully and tossed it to my daughter. “Please get dressed quickly as dinner is just about ready.” Making a beeline for the door, I heard Sweet Pea call out, “May I wear my red stockings?” “Yes,” came my hurried reply, “just get dressed.” With much time elapsed due to the spilled water incident, I rushed to put the finishing touches on dinner. Pots and pans clanged, dishes clattered as I threw them on the table, and utensils flew to their appropriated places. “Dinner,” I yelled, thumping the cornbread down on the table. ”Dinner-time!” “Uh, okay,” I heard my husband say with surprised, drawn out tones. “Is everything okay?” I asked over my shoulder, hurriedly throwing bowls of chili on the kitchen table. I raced back and forth from the oven to the table, to the table to the refrigerator, from the refrigerator to the table, and back to the range again. All I could think about was moving my family onto dinner with haste and speed due to the rapidly waning evening. “Sweet Pea!” I hollered to the measured steps slowly making their way down the hallway, “please come so that we can eat!” “Okay, Mom,” sang out a sweet voice. Then: Clip-clop, clip-clop, clip-clop, clip-clop. Little feet thudded down the hallway and burst into the kitchen. There, Sweet Pea stood with broad smile on her cheeks and pride in her eyes. She beamed with sparkle and pranced in cute, little girl abandon. The soft, velveteen, red dress with the sparkly sequined bow in the front which I had moments before removed from her closet in great impatience, now was accompanied by colorful, thick bright red stockings and too-large for her feet, sparkly red, high-heeled boots. She twirled on one heel and then clip-clopped to her seat with a delighted grin creasing her face. Joy radiated and oozed out of every pore of her body as my husband described her attire. So surprised at her styled coordination’s, so cute in her all little girl outfit, and so infectious was her delight, that I couldn’t help but laugh. Laughter rang out in the air, infusing my heart with light and changing the darkness from within. The walls of self-pity which had just been cocooning my heart stopped in their mad careen upward and crumbled. The all little girl cuteness which stared back at me with such sweet abandon shone bright and brilliant, overflowing the banks of her heart to water my cracked and bleeding places. Much like the water I had just spilled minutes before that flooded and spread in waterfall fashion, so did my daughter’s joy. It touched and spread through me, soaking deep the recesses of my heart, washing away my pain and making it well with me once more. So, when the thunder rolls and the heavens pour down their plenty, it is well with my soul. When the wind roars and the rain pummels the ground with its fury, it is well. When my little girl snuggles against my chest and leans against me, all is well. When the air is thick with the silence of sleeping bodies, it is well with me. When I do not understand, and I cannot see with my earthly eyes, it is well with my soul. May it be well with you my dear friends, fellow parents and grandparents, for in the storm of life and the collateral hail which assaults us, God is with us, granting us refuge in the storm and touching us with His presence. He gives us joy for the journey, when we least expect it in the smallest of details. Yet, if we open ourselves to receive these everyday joys and we see with eyes wide through the lenses of the One who made us, God will turn beauty from our ashes, give us the oil of joy for our mourning, and He will bless us with the garment of praise over a spirit of despair. Do not let your eyes grow closed or else you will miss the everyday joys which naturally come with the raising of little children. Let their enthusiasm and their fresh way of looking at the world infuse your perspective and open your eyes. Like a little girl who wanted sparkly red boots 3 sizes too big, and red stockings beneath her sparkly red dress to brighten her afternoon with beauty and grace. Join me today in being present in the moment so you do not miss today’s simple joys and daily gifts. A Parent’s PrayerOh, Lord, open my eyes to see You in new ways and fill me with Your oil of joy. Help me lay aside any selfish or wicked thing in me that Your gifts and blessings may abound. Replace my spirit of despair, oh God, and let Your Spirit of praise ring out in my heart this day.
2 Comments
Ginny Goff
2/11/2019 23:19:14
So beautiful! I'm overwhelmed with the joy your writing has given me. God bless you.
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Mom
2/12/2019 16:30:46
Very good piece, Marie. Thanks for sending it. Much love.
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AuthorMarried 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 ... Follow me:
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