Mama Prayers—and Two Books You Should Know About

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about the power of mama-prayers. These are not new thoughts. For me as a mom, prayer is a way of life. I begin my day—every day—praying for my kids. And their spouses. And their kids. And at Mom to Mom, we constantly encourage moms to pray for their kids. Prayer is, as we often remind one another, “the main event.” But recently I’ve been reminded how very powerful, and how very long-term, praying for our kids must be.

The other weekend I had the privilege, at a retreat where I was speaking, of renewing friendships with a number of women I had not seen in many years. I heard stories of the wonderful work God is doing in the lives of many of their children. We rejoiced together.

But there were other stories of children, many now young adults, who are struggling. Some because of what life seems to have dealt them, others seemingly because of their own poor choices. Kids who seem to be taking the long way around to faith—or back to faith. I came home with many of these stories on my mind.

And I thought of you—any of you reading this blog—and wondered what your stories are just now. I also thought of two books I’d like all moms to know about than can provide great encouragement to us as we wear out those “knee pads” for our kids.

The first is a long-time favorite: Prodigals and Those Who Love Them, by Ruth Bell Graham. It is a beautifully written book full of encouragement for moms who (as the inscription to the latest edition quotes a prodigal’s mom saying) “wake up every morning not from a nightmare, but to one.” It may not be that dramatic for you. But the hope-filled authenticity of this mom, wife of Billy Graham, as she writes about her years of waiting for prodigals to come home, will encourage any mother to take heart, hold on to hope, and keep praying for her kids.

Then I just finished reading When Moms Pray Together, by Fern Nichols and others. Many of you may recognize Fern’s name because she is the founder of a marvelous organization called Moms in Touch International. The book is filled with stories of different moms who prayed for their kids with a Moms in Touch prayer group. The stories are tearful, sometimes triumphant, sometimes still waiting—but all faith-filled because of the hope we have in Jesus. He never gives up on our kids!

You may find this book to be just the encouragement you need right now. But even more than any book, I encourage you to keep praying for your children. It may help you to seek out a Moms in Touch group you can join. You can search for one in your area at www.momsintouch.org. A few months ago, I had the privilege of joining my daughter-in-law in praying with her Moms in Touch group. It was a powerful experience.

But even if you cannot join such a group right now, God is ready to hear your prayers for your children no matter where you pray them. And no matter how long you’ve been praying them! As I read in Streams in the Desert for March 5, “The greatest challenge in receiving things from God is holding on for the last half hour.”

Remember, He loves them more than you do. And he never, never lets go.

Out of the Mouths - and into the Hearts - of Babes

Recently a friend called my attention to an excellent blog posting called “Doctrine in Diapers” by Amy Julia Becker on Christianity Today’s blog for women called her.meneutics.   It’s worth reading!  In it Becker shares stories of saying (and singing) grace with her children, praying with them, answering (or attempting to answer) their questions, taking them to church, and reading Bible stories with them.   Through it all the whole family—not just the kids—are learning a lot about God.  It sounds a great deal like what we talk about at Mom to Mom as the “Deuteronomy 6 lifestyle.”

It brought back a flood of memories for me.  And as I relived these memories, I realized something.  I am now re-living them in a new and different—and wonderful—way.  I am now seeing new versions lived in the lives of my grandchildren.

There was a time when our kids were young when we would sing “God Is Great and God Is Good” (pretty good theology, I’d say—as Becker observed about some of their songs of grace) before eating.  I’ll never forget the time our family, along with a young teen “Mother’s Helper” from our neighborhood, was grabbing a quick supper in the food court at the mall.  Lars, who was about 2 ½-3 at the time, insisted on singing our grace right there in the middle of the mall.  I thought poor Susan was going to go through the floor.

Recently Lars’ son Bengt was sharing his “wish list” for his 5-yr-old birthday.  “I really like hymns, Nana,” he said,  “so I’d like some CD’s of hymns.  My favorites are ‘Holy, Holy, Holy’ and ‘Be Thou My Vision.’”  Interesting choices, I thought, for a 5-year-old.  Also some great theology being sung into his life at an early age.

Becker also talked of her children’s prayers for others, and I was reminded of how many years (yes, years) Bjorn prayed for the “hostages in Iran to come home” every night before bed.  Now I sit around the table with Bjorn and his family and hear Soren, almost 4, praying for a missionary family in almost every prayer: “Please be with the boys in the Middle East.” (Names and country can’t be used.)

Becker also references some very interesting blog posts from a New York Times parenting blog.  Some of the conversation generated from those posts, links, and comments reflects the very real angst of parents who, as atheists or agnostics, struggle with how to answer their kids’ questions.  Questions like: “Daddy, if I speak to God, will he listen?”  Or:  “Where do we go when we die?”

Questions kids ask probably deserve another whole posting (or several!)  I know my kids as preschoolers asked me much harder questions than my middle school and high school students ever did when I was a teacher.   But even as we, as Christian parents, grapple with how to answer tough questions about Bible stories and about God at age-appropriate levels,  I am so thankful that we can pass along to our children the things that matter most about God—especially, and above all, His amazing love and care for them.

One of the NYT posts, called “Creating God in Your Parents’ Image” talks about how kids’ images of God are formed not only from things their parents tell them about God, but perhaps even more by how their parents treat them.  (As Becker observes from the NYT posts, “Interestingly, children with absent parents don’t assume that God is absent.  Rather, they often understand God as their surrogate parent.”)

I’m reminded of something else we talk about frequently at Mom to Mom:  “Children remember feelings more than facts.”  Which brings back another memory, which I believe I shared in a long-ago blog post (“What Songs Are You Singing to Your Children?”)  Once when our whole family was here visiting, Erika slipped down to our lower level with her newborn Gabriella to comfort her seemingly inconsolable crying.  As Erika rocked her and sang to her, she heard footsteps tiptoeing down the steps, and there was Bengt, then about 3.  He stopped in his tracks and listened with wonder as Erika sang the old Swedish hymn “Children of the Heavenly Father” (the hymn I sang to all our children when I put them to bed).

“That’s my Daddy’s song,” he said in amazement.  “My Daddy sings that song to me.”

Who knew?  All the ordinary, daily “stuff” we do with our kids (or maybe grandkids)--rocking and singing and loving and struggling with really tough questions—is teaching them more about God than we can ever imagine.  And, as Amy Julia Becker reminds us, teaching us, too.

I’d love to hear from some of you.  What are your kids learning about God from you?  And how?

You Gotta Keep Laughin’!

I recently returned from a trip to Michigan in which I met lots of moms - moms from three different Mom to Mom groups.  Some were young moms with their first new baby; others had a houseful of toddlers and preschoolers. Some were celebrating their kids going back to school, others bemoaning kids who’d left for college.  Yet others were mentor moms comparing notes (and pictures, of course!) about grandchildren.   We all had one thing in common.  Actually, we all had a lot in common.  But one thing that struck me particularly was that we all so desperately need to keep laughing!

I was speaking on the topic “Can You Really Love Your Kids and Your Life—at the Same Time?”  As I looked out on these audiences of moms, two things were obvious: First, these moms really love their kids.  They really, really do.  But also, these moms desperately need to be able to laugh with other moms about the daily “mission impossible” challenges of being a mom.  Sometimes it’s a matter of survival.  At the very least, it makes being a mom more fun.

As I talked with moms after each session, we found ourselves laughing a lot.  Not that we didn’t have serious conversations.  Some very heavy things were shared, and I find myself still praying for some of the moms I met.  But I also noticed how crucial it was for these moms to hold on to their sense of humor.

There was the one mom who came half an hour early for our Mom to Mom Dessert Night because it just felt so good to get out of the house and let her husband put the kids to bed.  She wasn’t in any hurry to leave, either, when the party was over.  Even though she spent a good bit of her time showing me pictures of her two adorable little girls.  :)   And there was the mom who told me “Hey, we’re doing pretty well even though my kids are so close together in age.  I haven’t put any up on Craig’s List yet!”   Laughter really is one of the best medicines for a mom.

All this reminded me of an older woman I knew many years ago who influenced me more than she ever knew.    She was the woman I wanted to be when I grew up.  An older woman in our church that most people called Grammy Perkins,  she was one of the funniest—and Godliest—women I ever knew.  And that, I must say, is one fantastic combination!

She led the Tuesday morning women’s prayer group at our church.  And what mighty prayer warriors those women were!  I remember my dad often commenting that it was the prayers of those women that got him through the completion of a manuscript he was writing on the Old Testament—and even got it published with a big-name publisher.

Grammy Perkins was also one spunky lady.  One of the best stories I heard about her was how she got her driver’s license.  As an older woman (I don’t know how old she was.  She seemed very old to me—but then I was in fifth grade at the time!),  she had never learned to drive.  She kept telling her husband she was going to learn. “Oh, Julia,” he’s say.  “You know you’re never going to do that at your age.  In fact if you got your license, I would buy you any car you want.”  That was all Julia needed. Out she went and enrolled in driver training classes—right along with all those teenagers.  And, unbeknownst to her husband, she got her license.  Then one night he came home for dinner to find her brand new license hanging from the chandelier  in the dining room—along with a note on the kind of car she wanted.  And she got it!

But what I remember most about her was a little prayer she said she often had to pray: “Lord, fix me up, Lord, fix me up.”

Oh, how often I need to pray that prayer.  “Lord, fix me up, Lord fix me up.”  As a young mom with small children, as a mother of teens, even now as a grandmother.  It’s a prayer I need regularly.  And I notice, along with wonderful Grammy Perkins, that one of the ways God works in me, one of the way He fixes me up, is through laughter.  Truly, it is good medicine.  Often, it is God’s medicine.

I believe it was Charles Swindoll who said, “Of all the things God created, I am often most grateful He created laughter.”  I think Grammy Perkins would agree.  Especially for moms.

Praying and laughing—perhaps the two most crucial ingredients for a mom.  My prayer for you is that  you’re doing lots of  both!

Doing More Than You Think

Recently I made a very long journey. It was not that long in actual miles (just over 100) or in hours (2-3 each way). But it was a very long journey of the heart.

Woody and I drove down to Wheaton, Illinois, where I grew up and where both of us went to college. The reason for our trip was a sad one: a memorial service for my Aunt Ruth, my mother’s sister. But it also gave us opportunity to drive around several suburbs (Woody spent much of his early life in neighboring towns) that were the scenes of our childhood and teen-to-young-adult years.

As we drove by one place after another where I had lived (my mom was a realtor, so we lived in a number of different homes), I was swept back in time.

I could almost see the kids skating on the driveway on hot summer days at one house—and feel the sunburn I had the next day which, being a Sunday, meant I had to dress up and wear a “prickly dress.” I think it was dotted swiss material—anyone remember that?


Another home reminded me of our crazy standard poodle who actually climbed trees—at least, the tree right across the street, which had some low branches to get him started. A third house was the place we planned our wedding, and where, on the Big Day, an unplugged cord to the clock in my room almost made me late to my own wedding!

There must have been thousands of memories.

But many of them were on a deeper level. I thought constantly of my parents, both of whom now have gone on to be with the Lord. I thought of all the ups and downs that took place over the years in those homes we lived in. The good times, the hard times, the just day-to-day “normal” (whatever that is!) times which take place in all our lives.

Most of all, I thought of my parents’ faithfulness through it all: faithfulness to each other, to their children, and—above all—to God. Most of their days probably seemed pretty mundane. My dad was a hard-working college professor, interim pastor, writer, reluctant Mr. Fix-it, and even part-time farmer. (At one point, Wheaton College professors were given some land on which to plant vegetable gardens to supplement their meager salaries!) My mom was a part-time realtor who managed to “be there” for my brother and me even while juggling many roles as wife, daughter, sister, mother, and realtor.


I’m sure they had no idea how profoundly some of their “everyday” routines would impact generations to come. They had no idea that my brother and I knew that Dad was on his knees in the early-morning hours at his “prayer chair” in our little living room. Or that Mom, a bit later, read her red-lined Bible at the kitchen table. Or that the two of them knelt by their bed every night.

They surely didn’t realize, either, what an impression it made on us that Mom was always home for us after school (well, almost always—occasionally her realtor role had to take precedence, but rarely) so we could pour out all the important events of the day—or at least I could—I’m not sure my brother was quite as chatty! Or the picture my brother and I carry in our minds of Dad’s study door at the top of the stairs: it was always open. Clearly he was hoping we’d pop in and drop in one of the chairs across from his desk to share the latest in our lives.

And when they were reading us Bible stories as part of “family devotions” around the old yellow formica table in our kitchen, did it look as if we were paying any attention at all?

Lifelong imprints, these memories, that have profoundly affected not only my brother and me, but also our children—and now their children. It kind of reminds me of Psalm 78, verses 4–7, where the Psalmist instructs us to “tell the next generation the praiseworthy deeds of the Lord, His power and the wonders He has done . . . so the next generation would know them, even the children yet to be born, and they in turn would tell their children.”

I thought of this journey last week when I was singing “Jesus Loves Me” to Soren before he went to bed. I thought of the “children yet to be born” part of Psalm 78. And I thought of you.


I’ll bet most of your days seem pretty mundane. It’s mid-summer. It’s hot. It really doesn’t seem like you’re doing much at all. Certainly not accomplishing anything important.

You might be surprised. That’s why I’m writing about my journey back to my childhood. One thing I forgot to tell you: a couple of the places I lived aren’t even there any more. But the memories are. And the imprints for generations to come.

Hmm. No wonder you’re so tired at the end of a day. You’re doing a lot more than you think!