Praying through the hope and journey of motherhood.
As a mom, I have certainly prayed for my children.
I prayed through my journey of having children; the waiting, the loss, the joy.
I prayed through the fear and hope of each pregnancy.
I prayed for them each time I could finally put a chubby cheeked face to the prayers. Some are chubbier than others.
I prayed for peace for my anxious heart through those early nights of wondering “is my baby still breathing?”
I pray for discernment about whether we need to go to the doctor for this little cough or fever or pea shoved up the nose.
I prayed for healing with every scrape, break, or “walk it off” moment.
I pray for grace as I’m running out of patience for their wiggly bodies, minds full of questions, or “Didn’t I just tell you…” responses.
I pray for good rest at night knowing I have to wake up the next morning and do this mom thing all over again, hoping I would get a break through the night, but acknowledging the slim possibility I will actually stay under my covers for just one “sleep”.
There have also been countless prayers as I see a diaper free of a little bootie, begging “Lord, please let all the poop be contained and not all around the room.”
Or for patience and a kind tongue when I realize it’s not.
Or that prayer most every school age mom prays as she walks through the dark house in the middle of the night, “Please let my tender feet not find a Lego on the floor.” because, The Lego Movie 2 accurately states, “stepping on a lego, childbirth, about the same.”
I pray for safety as I watch them walk to their classrooms, knowing they are out of my protection on this school day and handing over my life to their teachers. Praying for the Lord to calm my anxious heart until the bell rings again.
I pray the prayer of “Sweet Jesus” when they are home all day every day, using all their words, never a moment to catch my breath, as I’m pleading for Jesus to take over the body I’m about to lose control of and fixing to turn that “Sweet Jesus” into more of an “adult word” and less of a cry for help. Anyone else?
But most of all, I pray for strong, kind, and wise little boys who love Jesus, who take up their armor daily, and who will grow up to be honorable men.
I know one day I will be praying for safety while they are new drivers, wise choices while hanging with their friends, or that they would just come home from college to kiss their mom on the cheek.
I prayed to become a mom, I pray to keep my children (and my sanity) alive, and I will continue to pray as they are grown, out of my home, and leading their own little family;
because, since they were a dream in my heart…for these children I have prayed and will continue to pray every day…
Lord, thank you for my children: my precious gifts. Truly.
- Remind me often that they are my signs and wonders from You (Is 8:18).
- May they grow up to find their confidence in You and You will be their refuge (Prov 14:26).
- Help me to continue to speak Your truth into them and teach them so that they may know You and keep Your commands. (1 John 5:3)
- I pray that they would be different from the generation before them, and the generation they are in, not stubborn and rebellious, but be loyal and faithful to You (Ps 78:6-8).
- I have no greater joy than to hear my children walking in the truth (3 John 4).
I place these children in Your hands to protect, guide, strengthen, and wield into the men/women You have created them to be. Thank you that You have given these children to me and that I get to be their mom.
“For this child I prayed, and the Lord has granted me my request which I asked of Him. Therefore I have also dedicated him to the Lord; as long as he lives he is dedicated to the Lord.”1 Samuel 1:27-28 (AMP)
Alisha Cole and her husband live and raise their three boys in Shreveport, LA. Through their 20 years of ministry, Alisha has experienced all the loneliness, loss, grief, exhaustion, and Legos that comes with mixing motherhood and ministry. She prays her encouraging whispers from the Holy Spirit (and hilarious boy mom disasters) are a healing balm to the hearts of hurting women who read them.