A Mother’s prayers – still before God

Three of our grandchildren were living with us.

It was a joyful time, in the midst of a sad time.

Bedtimes were  part of the joyful time – a time of quiet talk – a time of prayer – an assurance of love. For Kaylee, the youngest, it included a time of singing. It was a song I had composed, just for her:

Sweet dreams, my Kaylee Joy;

sweet dreams to you.

Dream about rainbows,

dream about sunshine,

dream about teddy bears, too.

And as she fell asleep, my singing changed to humming, and the humming diminished as I tucked her blankie around her and tiptoed out of the room.

It was during one of those times of humming that the memory came.

Just two musical tones of my humming brought the memory – tones of a first, then down to a fifth. (You musicians know what I mean!)

With those two tones, I saw her – my mother.

She was young. Her hair dark, short, parted on the side, and wavy. I was a baby – how old I don’t know, but young enough that I was still in her arms. I looked at her through baby eyes. I saw my chubby forearm and hand. My hand was touching her soft cheek. And she was singing:

When I pray, I will pray for you,
For you need His love and His care.
When I pray, I will pray for you,
I will whisper your name in my prayer. 

I knew the entire song – one I hadn’t heard sung in years, but now I heard only the first of it because, you see, the memory was so short. Perhaps only seconds. But long enough to place me back in my mother’s arms – to remember her holding me, singing to me, loving me.

The memory suddenly poured from my eyes and flowed down my cheeks.

I was glad Kaylee had fallen asleep. I left her bedroom and cherished the ever-so-brief thoughts, thanking God for that special reflection.

And I’ve since thought more about the words to that old hymn. Mama prayed for me. My faith first lived in her (2 Timothy 1:5).  And her prayers for me are still worship before the Lord God (Revelation 5:8, 8:4).

When their mothers had gone to be with the Lord, both my friend, Becky, and my cousin, Sherri, shared their feelings of emptiness with me. Besides their normal feelings of grief and loss, they both said, “I feel like my most faithful prayer warrior is gone.”

When my time came, and my mother was gone, I understood. I felt much the same as Becky and Sherri, until I realized that my mother’s prayers were still powerful and alive before God. A golden bowl holds the incense, which are the prayers of the saints, and the smoke of that incense continues to rise before God. I was encouraged and in turn, encouraged Becky and Sherri with that insight from God’s Word.

Let it also encourage you, my friend. Gain strength in that knowledge, my friend. Your mother’s (and/or grandmother’s) prayers are still before the Lord God. The fragrance of those prayers continues to rise  up to God, as sweet worship to Him!

And to me, it’s as though she’s still singing,