I believe in prayer.
I’ve seen situations change because of it.
More often, I’ve seen myself change because of it.
Most often, regardless of the outcome, I find something there, in those moments of quiet connection, that keeps me coming back, ravenously wanting more.
This journey with Little One has made me acutely aware of my own need to know that I am not alone.
And so I’ve called in the prayer reinforcements.
People in my life who don’t just say, “I’ll pray for you” to be nice.
People I’ve seen ravenously wanting more.
I like to give them specific requests—mostly, I guess, because I like when people give me specific requests. It gives me some words to start.
And also because I believe that God cares about the details of our lives (not necessarily in a micro-managy way, but at least in a sit down and stay a while and don’t worry because you’re not boring me way).
And so, over the past week, I have flooded these sweet friends with specific requests.
Dates and times and details and minutiae.
Things that matter to me. That worry my mama-heart.
They are so patient and kind with me.
They text and message and e-mail and, I know, hold Little One and I before the Father.
One of those sweet messages held these words:
Praying in the love of God for all…
In the frenzy of my day, I missed the word “in” while I was reading it, and all day, I mulled it over
Praying the love of God for all.
Because, really, isn’t that what we need?
All of us.
Bogged down in our dates and times and details and minutiae.
Worry, meet Love.
Frustration, meet Love.
Uncertainty, meet Love.
Exhaustion, meet Love.
Sit at his feet for just a minute longer. Dare to look into his eyes and glimpse no condemnation.
God’s love for it all.