If you’re like most parents, you pray for your kids. Even if you’re not much of a pray-er, you pray for your kids. When mine were small, I probably prayed more for them to sleep well than anything else, and I’m pretty sure it was for my benefit rather than theirs. The older they got, the more intense the prayers. Both of my kids were bullied through middle school, which required more than a little time in prayer for me—for them and, when I was feeling especially generous, for the bully. But, as a teacher at their middle school, I also had to pray for self-control, because I had direct access to the little darlin’s tormenting my children.
Then they start driving. That’s where the prayers really kick into gear. In my case, it didn’t keep my daughter from a near-fatal car accident, but I’m confident that those prayers kept her alive. We pray because we know that as much as we love our children, we don’t have a whole lot of control.
I had a pastor once who’d say, “Live and learn or learn and live. The choice is yours.” We fail and, hopefully, learn from our mistakes. Or we live in obedience to the Lord, listen to His commands, not go off on our own and maybe avoid some of the pitfalls of life. Learn, then live rather than live and learn. I don’t know about you, but I’ve done a lot of failing, more so before I became a Christian. And because of this, I truly feel I have some wisdom to depart to my adult children. Give a shout if you’ve ever said, “I just wish they’d do things the way I think they should, and their life would be so much _________ (better, easier, richer, more fulfilling—you fill in the blank.) We know which career path would suit them the best, the smartest financial choices, where to live, whom to love… But for some reason, they have to do things the hard way. Their way.
Last week, I was praying for my daughter, who, with her husband, is planning to move again—fourth time in twelve years to a different state. I was lamenting to God about my idea of where they should move (close to me, of course) and her stubbornness to ignore my motherly advice. And it struck me. We are just like our children. Only we have a Father who is all-seeing, all-powerful and has a beautiful plan and purpose for our lives—if only we’d listen to Him. Instead, more often than not, we’re distracted by our own desires and ideas and don’t even think to consult Him. I can only imagine if I get frustrated by my two (very sweet and talented) children, how much more frustrated must He be with His millions of deaf (to Him) offspring?
Even if your life is going swimmingly, and you’re living your dream, don’t you wonder how much LARGER it would be if you’d followed God’s path from the very beginning? I do. Oh, I wouldn’t trade my life for anything in the world, and I believe God knows our propensity for rebellion (or just plain not hearing Him) and makes adjustments. And His mercy knows no bounds. Even so, I have a desire to hear His voice more clearly and then actually take it. After all, He’s not just guessing which choices would be best, He knows. It doesn’t get any better than that.
Comments 1
I had that same thought the other day. It was a wow moment for me. I only have 3 kids to worry about. I have 1 granddaughter who died when she was a little more than one day old. There was nothing I could do. Only God has the answer. But it’s still hard to let go.