As the day woke me, I reached for my phone and read a friend’s text. She was scheduled for a c-section tomorrow to welcome her firstborn. The baby was breach; he wanted to rest closer to her loving heart. The message explained that he arrived early, via c-section last night. He was in the NICU, and she hadn’t gotten to hold or feed him yet. She asked for prayer.
As a mommy with two of my own, my heart first ached for her desire to hold that precious newborn. And yet, I gave thanks. Thank you, Lord, for the miracle of this new life; for your protection over him and his mommy every moment from his beginning. Filled with thanks to our God who is holding this child and will carry them both. Thankful that my friend is already a great mommy. She asked for prayer.
You see, I was where you are once and still am today. In the hospital room, when the clock says 3am and you wonder if he is eating, and you are hurting. You pray. In the kitchen, as you hold him by the window and hope the sunlight helps heal his yellow skin. You pray. When he cries at night and nothing seems to calm him; when you cry, because you’re tired and you’ve tried your best. You pray.
And it doesn’t go away.
In the doctor’s office, and the scales don’t show enough weight. In the bedroom, as he coughs out a cold. As you chase him around the couch to try and change a dirty diaper. As you hear your own doctor tell you about your health and to wait and see.
You pray.
I prayed this morning, and I sent my friend a scripture passage straight from my son’s Bible Stories book.
“He tends His flock like a shepherd. He gathers the lambs in His arms and carries them close to His heart. He gently leads those who have young.” Isaiah 40:11
You memorize.
He carries them. He carries us and reminds us to help carry others.
My babies are now both growing bigger by the hour, and I can think of nothing I desire more than the prayers of my friends. Loved ones, loving me along this journey. Lifting me and my babies up to our Father.
The request does not stop after the first trip home, first trip to the pediatrician or first day of school.
And so today, I am making a commitment to continue praying for you, dear Mommy.
For the Mommy who is awake at night with her baby, red with tears, I am praying for you. For the Mommy afraid her son will get sick from a virus that’s shared, I pray for you. For the Mommy drying her eyes to swallow the sadness of saying goodbye for the first time, I pray for you.
For the Mommy who lost her child before even showing his growth, I pray for you. Mommies who have yet to hold their babies, Mommies who let them go by choice, who grieve and cry, I pray for you.
For the Mommy of kids grown and gone, I pray for you. For the Mommy who made mistakes, and they were taken away, I pray for you. For the Mommy back in the hospital with her child in a gown, I pray for you. For the Mommy diagnosed to a fight, I am praying for you. I am cheering for you.
Some of you, I know by name, and I pray them. In the quietness of nap time, when the water splashes the shower or the suds soak the kitchen sink, as I fold clothes after clothes, when I’m laying down for bed. I know you may be doing the same things.
For others with names I have yet to hear, I lift you up to the One who knows them, knows you. He has promised to love and lead and carry us, always. Pray with me, dear Mommy. Pray for each other.
Pray for me, too.
Jesus said:
“The one who enters by the gate is the shepherd of the sheep. The gatekeeper opens the gate for him, and the sheep listen to his voice. He calls his own sheep by name and leads them out. When he has brought out all his own, he goes ahead of them, and his sheep follow him because they know his voice.
I am the good shepherd; I know my sheep and my sheep know me.”
John 10
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