praying for my sons…

I feel fragile these days. Strained, I guess.

But I’m learning that I’m closest to God when I’m the weakest. It has been that way for years with me, really. Time to embrace it, I guess. When I am most in control, He feels the most distant, and that isn’t what I want.

I pray for Evan a lot of evenings as I rock him before bed. He can’t fully understand me, so it’s easier for me to be free with my prayers for him.

Tonight was one of those nights that I felt most pleading with God. I told Him that I just can’t do it all, and I know it. I told Him that I don’t have what it takes to bring my children to His feet. I am too full of doubts, too weak in faith, too pathetic to give my children the heritage of faith that I wish I could. I mean it; this is not empty humility trying to say the acceptable words.

I pleaded for Him to touch their hearts, to open their eyes, to draw them to Himself. I begged Him for rich grace to overcome all the ways I do and will continue to fall short as their mother.

I am not reformed. I believe that God has chosen to limit Himself in one essential way. He does not force us to choose Him. (See Matthew 23:37 for one example of this.) But I pray for His wooing of their hearts and for their acceptance of His gracious salvation… I don’t know exactly how it all works, but I know that they need Him.

He has never failed me. No, not even when I railed at Him because I thought He had. I will have the grace I need for each day… and probably no more than that. =) It will be enough.