Over the last two weeks Liam has crawled into our bed because of nightmares at least three times. Each time he tells me in a pitiful little voice that he had a bad dream and then earnestly begs, "Will you pray for me?"
Every time, in that middle-of-the-night stupor, I feel simultaneously heartbroken that I cannot control my son's dreams and make his sleep peaceful, anxious that a prayer won't make any difference and grateful that praying is something we do. More than ever, I find that prayer is both complicated and simple, confusing and profound, seemingly worthless and absolutely essential.
Since Liam was born we pray together every night. Sometimes, especially lately, he will pray a short prayer before I do, usually focused entirely on not having bad dreams. Most of the time, it's just me who prays, often for five minutes or more. And occasionally Liam's asleep before I say "amen."
We pray for all of our family members by name, for struggles they're having, for happy things they're celebrating. We say thank you for school, neighborhood, friends - many by name - and church. We pray for the kids we support in other countries. We ask for safety for people traveling. We ask for help with problems. We ask to be filled with God's love and to behave like his children ought to. We acknowledge how great and awesome God is and thank him that he cares about us. Every night, pretty much the same stuff, over and over. On the rare night praying slips my mind, Liam's voice will call in panic, "Mom, you forgot to pray!"
In my 20s, I didn't pray much, other than the urgent "I'm sorry - get me out of this mess!" pleas. In my 30s, I began a more focused and consistent prayer life. Then my cousin's husband and my neighbor's son both became seriously ill and I prayed with everything I had. A dear neighbor and I began to meet together every week to pray for these and other concerns. Yet even with the prayers of many faithful people, both of these precious people died. Why didn't God answer the prayers of all these passionate people? Does praying make any difference? Can it save a person from dying?
I have friends and acquaintances who believe that with enough faith God can work through prayer to heal people. I'm not so sure. It's not that I doubt God can heal. I doubt what "enough faith" looks like. I doubt that this is what our praying is about.
At the beginning of the school year Liam would come home and tell me about another boy who would taunt him during recess, pinning his arms down so he couldn't get up. No one ever saw it apparently and he didn't want to tell the teacher. The second and third time it happened it occurred to me that we should pray for the boy those nights. We prayed that Liam would find good words to use in the situation and that the boy would have a change of heart and be kind. The next day I asked Liam about recess and whether the boy bothered him. "No," he shrugged. "He was really nice to me today."
I asked Liam what he thought happened. He didn't know but thought maybe the boy's mom had started praying with him. I love that perspective. God didn't just step in and make a kid nice because we asked him (which I still don't doubt he could do); he worked in a kid's heart because the kid's mom prayed with him and asked God to help her son be kind and loving and a good friend.
As a parent, I have so little control over what happens to my kids. I could let that terrify me and break my heart. Instead, I give those worries and troubles to God. I pray over them and for them and with them. I know that doesn't guaranty they won't get sick or hurt or picked on. It doesn't ensure they'll make wise choices or stay out of trouble. It doesn't promise good dreams. But I know that I have done the best and the most I can do. I have trusted them to one I believe loves them even more than me. I have shown them where to leave their troubles and who to send their thanks. And I'll do it again and again every day no matter what. Because how prayer works, I have no idea. I just know it does.
If you don't pray with your kids and are curious about it, I highly recommend the NPR radio program The Spirituality of Parenting. Awesome insights into children and why prayer is so important for them.
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3 comments:
You could have been describing Kathryn growing up. She has struggled with fear from day one. And two days ago we put her on a plane to South Africa -- alone, 18 years old -- to live there for 7 months. I am awed by her courage (and that is the essence of courage ... not the absence of fear but having fear and moving forward anyway). I, too, wrestled with what to do and agonized for and with her that as such a little girl she was riddled with fear. I, also, prayed with her from the very beginning. Every fear was taken to Jesus and supported and countered with the truth of the Word. "My grace is enough for you for my power is made perfect in weakness...when I am weak, then I am strong." "I will never leave you or forsake you."I am with you always even to the end of the age." "I will not leave you as orphans." "Be strong and courageous. Do not be frightened and do not be dismayed for the Lord your God is with you wherever you go." I knew I couldn't promise her that none of the things she feared would happen to her. "In this world you WILL have trouble but be of good courage -- I have overcome the world!" But we could count on his presence with us and together take our weak and trembling hands and place them in his strong and steady ones. I could go on and on . . . even as tears fall down my cheeks. He is good and He is enough and He is our hope -- for ourselves and for our children -- and this is, ultimately, the only solid, unmovable thing there is.
Well yeah, there's that or Tylenol.
Such an honest and thoughtful post here. Prayer is such a mystery to me sometimes too. Seems like one of your prayers as a mother is being answered though-that Liam crys out to be prayed for in times of fear, etc. I could read this post over and over-so so good to my own heart.
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