Philemon Chapter 1

​Philemon 1:6

Prayer Over Our Children

Oh Lord, bring up my child in Your love and grace. Help my little one actively shares her faith so that she will gain a full understanding of every good thing she holds in You. May Your love encourage her and bring her great joy. Make her useful for Your kingdom, oh God, and a beloved sister in Christ to all those she meets. Refresh her spirit, oh Lord, and bless her with a heart of obedience. May You hear her requests and answer her prayers with overflowing abundance. Prepare her a room in Your heavenly home and grant her great joy. ...

Mountains of dirty dishes piled high in the sink, spilling out onto the countertop. Pots and pans collected on the oven range, crusty and with dried clumps of food clinging to their insides. It was 10:30 at night and company was coming tomorrow morning. I stood in the kitchen, eyeing the mess. It was just me alone with the dishes, left in the quiet to tend to the tedious task of cleanup. My husband had just retired to bed, having done his part of taking out the trash and clearing off the dining room table. Sweet pea slept soundly, curled snugly under her purple comforter with her stuffed dog tucked under her arm. 

I guess I can’t procrastinate this any longer, came my reluctant thoughts; got to get started somewhere. Unloading the dishwasher and putting away clean dishes seemed a logical first step, but why did it feel like I was walking through mud? One step at a time, I told myself, longing for the warm comforts of my bed. The longer you just stand here, the later it will be before you crawl under the covers!
     
And so, with slow mechanical motions, I unloaded the dishwasher and started organizing dirty dishes into new piles to make room in the sink. I stood listening to the running water and feeling the warm sudsy water on the dry skin of my hands when the softest of songs floated in the back recesses of my mind. 
     
Sing, Hosanna. Sing, Hosanna. Sing, Hosanna, to the King of Kings. The song was from my daughter’s Christian children’s CD that she had been singing and dancing to with all smiles and giggles earlier in the day. 

“Dance with me, Mommy!” she had laughed, holding her little arms out to me. “Come on, Mommy, come on!”

We danced and twirled on our kitchen floor, collapsing in a sweaty, giggling heap. I remember thinking how much taller Sweet One was now, too heavy for me to lift and swing in my arms. How quickly she has grown over these past months, my bittersweet thoughts reflected, smiling at her longer legs and arms. She is no longer a baby but all little girl now. 
     
“Again,” she squealed with sparkling eyes, “again, Mommy, again!”

I smiled, remembering, as I dunked dirty dishes in the bubbles and scrubbed at the hardened bits of food. 
     
Sing Hosanna, sing Hosanna, I hummed to the quiet accompaniment of clinking dishes and splashing water. A peaceful energy and quiet light filled my heart, soft at first but steady in it’s growth. Like that first ember that struggles to take hold but then gains strength as it’s fire spreads, warmth and gratitude tapped lightly at first, but then opened wide the eyes of my heart. 
     
I no longer looked with resentment or felt the dirge of duty but saw instead the gems hiding behind the piles of dishes, dirty mounds of silverware, and stacks of pots and pans. 
     
“Thank you,” I whispered to the dirty dishes. For a mountain of unwashed dishes reflected God’s provision of food for our family and His financial blessings. 
     
“Thank you,” I inwardly spoke to God, for the little and big mouths whom this food feeds and the lives with whom You have surrounded me with around this kitchen table. 
     
Sing Hosanna, sing Hosanna, sing Hosanna to the King of Kings, the song cycled through my head. 
     
“Thank you,” I softly addressed the now empty garbage can. My heart overflowed with gratitude that I was not alone in this often formidable and exhausting job of parenting. God had sent me a partner to help shoulder the load and share in the unending list of tasks and chores. What a blessing not to be alone in this parenting journey and life long endeavor. 
     
“Thank you,” I said to the CD player, hanging beneath my cupboard, “for the songs that you play and for the dances I am privileged to share with Sweet One,” her little arms and legs stretching long in the making but holding the same exuberant smile and desire to leap for the Lord. 
     
“Thank you, God,” I praised, “for giving me energy so late at night and for filling my heart with peace.” For it was only by God’s grace that I washed and loaded, scrubbed and soaked, the disappearing pile of dishes, with a song in my heart and contentment wrapped around me in a warm embrace. 
     
"Sing Hosanna, sing Hosanna,” the words tumbled out in an offering of worship, "Sing Hosanna to the King of Kings!" 

A Parent’s Prayer

Thank you, Lord, that I am blessed with a child to care, love, and cherish. Thank you for the spouse, you have set aside for me and molded. Thank you, God, for the food and finances for which You have blessed us with and thank You for Your great love and sacrifice. Thank you, Lord, that I can share in the love of who You are with both my husband and my child. Thank you, Lord, for dirty dishes and the ones for which I labor on behalf of and with whom I am able to show great love. Thank You.