Dear Lord,

I come to you a good 48 hours after the world ended AGAIN. I know I should have come right there in the moment and asked for your help when my child was losing her precious little mind and I heard the Little Red Hen clucking, “The Sky is Falling, The Sky is Falling.” Because I promise, it was.

All I saw was red. I struggled to separate myself from the situation and let the consequences do their job. Yes, Lord, I wanted to fix my child, and I doubted you. So I took it upon myself to figure this one out on my own. I know, I know. The way I handled the situation sucked. You saw it all.

I guess I was wondering if you really get it, God? Do you know what it’s like to live with a perpetual controller who is in constant pushback mode sucking you bone dry with negativity and critique? Some days it feels worse than when I worked in the corporate cube—sitting next to the company gossip and the guy who cussed out his clients all day!

Do you know what it’s like to be questioned and challenged on every teensy decision? Who am I kidding, of course you do. You’re the God of the universe. And you’re listening to my rant. I get it.

God, it was just the worst moment ever, and I’m still struggling to recover—to go on and forgive this precious kid of mine. I know this child is a gift, but most days it feels like You’re testing me—to see how well I can love in the face of persecution. Yeah, I know, that’s harsh, but it’s what I felt in that moment.

Father, I know You were there. I know You wanted to help. And I didn’t ask. And for that I’m sorry.

Sometimes I am so bone-dry weary. And I know I’m not the only one! I’ve had enough of this doing it on my own. Because clearly I’m still getting over the massive mess I made—the hateful words we both said.

So, I’m coming to You, God, for all the moms who want your strength to be stronger than their child—to win the power game with arms raised instead of being chained to their tears, regret, guilt and shame. This is our lament and our battle cry, our surrender to the Savior because we are not winning these battles on our own. We know You can do better than we can.

Help us, Lord, we are exhausted. The negativity is killing us. The fight is destroying our souls. We need relief. Hope. A glimmer of a holy miracle working in our children. Is that too much to ask?

When the angry eyes and the dagger words are stabbing our souls, give us soft hearts under our stoic faces. When doors slam in our face and we hear how we’re the worst mothers in the world from the mouths of our precious babes, give us hearts of unconditional kindness under our firm voices.

When we don’t know what to do because we’ve already taken the child’s bedroom door off the hinges AND cleared his bedroom of every single toy AND grounded her for a month, give us a clear mind untouched by rage, but slathered in grace. The kind of grace that leans into You and ONLY ANSWERS TO YOU, the Almighty God.

When we’ve been manipulated into a corner again, helps us to toe the big fat awful-feeling line of setting sticky boundaries and help us to stay there and stand our ground—for this kid’s future alone. Show us how to follow through even when it’s easier to cry in the corner or scream back in his face.

You know our childrens’ fights are not with us, but within themselves. Help us to be bolder and stolid against the blame spouting from our babes, the refusals refusing to be subdued. You are greater than the battle, and You have won it, even when we can’t see it.

When they recoil from our embraces and push us, pinch us, bite us, slam the door in our face for what we hope is the very last time (but we know it might be the first in a new epic mini-series now showing on our personal primetime), please, for all the mothers in the world who need this, help us to point them to You. May we see this as our one calling—helping them see You.

It is the only way. To call them to something higher, better: the gentle answer, the humble heart, the softening spirit.

When the going gets tough, help us mamas to be tougher. To stand tall with Xena warrior princess might and make it to the end, still standing.

Show up, God. SHOW UP, we beg you. This is a prayer from the depths of one mama’s soul for all her brave sisters and their beautiful children.

I hold onto the promise You, God, will answer because You say You will. Because the stakes are high Lord. These strong-willed, fire-spirited, powerhouse kids of ours can change the world, literally. They will be the presidents and missionaries, peacemakers, and justice-bringers, adventure seekers, and world-savers of tomorrow. The good of the world does not rest on our shoulders, Lord. Help us to remember that. You have the greatness of the world in the palm of your hand. Help us to remember THAT in the heat of the iron clash.

These kids of our will do so much for Your kingdom. I’m asking You to take their hearts and change them. We’d love for You to do it quickly, Lord, because we’re running out of steam, but go ahead, take all the time You need, and we will try to wait patiently. We ask for a sign–a great big billboard is preferred, but we’ll take a small seed of a hug or a sigh or an I’m sorry. Just keep us going. We are asking You to do it all. Because we know You will.

The fight is Yours. Yours alone. You’ve got us. You’ve got our hearts, and you’ve got our children’s. Help us strong-willed mamas to trust, go, do, and love our strong-willed kids with the only love that is stronger: Yours.

Amen.

You can read more from Christina – 

I share stories about finding God-given courage to be imaginative, generous, and real at Creative and Free.