The Night I Stopped Praying For Myself
“There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear…” (1 John 4:18).
“Oh Lord, help me,” I whispered into the night. “I feel like such a failure… I’m so afraid I’ll screw this up… help me be a better mom… help me be a better wife… help me…”
I sat rocking Little Boy to sleep as silent tears fell with not-so-silent prayers. Begging God to help.
Nothing tragic or earth-shattering had happened that day. It had just been a day that tested my patience, that tried my love, that exposed my ill-preparedness for this gigantic task. The huge purpose of raising up little people. If there’s one thing in my life I’m not going to screw up, I’ve sworn to myself so many times, it’s this. Kissing boo-boos and teaching little hearts how to pray and giving one more hug. This messy, magical, meaningful thing called motherhood. I feel the value, the weight of it so much, that I fear my own shortcomings. And in the quiet of that night, Fear from the Past snuck in and tried to choke out the Hopes of the Future. The thought even entered my mind… I’m almost ashamed to admit it, but one of my hopes for HowToBless is that it can be a safe place for us to talk about hard things… the thought entered my mind that They deserve better than me.
And so I went on praying. Praying to be more able. Praying as I rocked that little boy who felt perfectly safe in my arms and had no idea that his mama was just about ready to have a nervous breakdown. Lord, help me… Lord, make me stronger… make me better…
And my memory interrupted my prayers and snapped me back to another time, another place. Ten years ago, to the little, warm office where my then-fiancee (now husband) and I attended premarital counseling. Our wise pastor had asked us a meaningful question, as he often tended to do, then sat back with a smile and waited patiently. I don’t remember his question, and I don’t remember our answer. But I remember that my sweet fiancée and I were having trouble understanding each other and we both answered his question in a way that we thought would secure our own comfort.
Our pastor saw through our words into the heart of the matter. “See? Can you hear the problem? Listen to how many times you just said the word ‘I’. That’s called selfishness.” He said it ever-so-understandingly, but even so, a door slammed open in my heart. Some before-unknown door that shone light on an area I hadn’t known was dark.
In an attempt to make things right, we had both become a little too focused on our own needs and wants. We had taken good ideals, good standards, and pushed them too far in the name of our mutual faith. Ideals that came out covered in a lot of Me’s and I’s as Selfishness raised its sneaky, slimy, ugly head.
The memory left and I was back in the rocking chair, babe in arms. In the quiet bedroom, lit only by soft moonlight coming through the window. And the same door opened up that night, shining light on the darkness of my heart. Suddenly I heard the prayers for what they were… “Lord, help me… I … me… me…”
The door opened a little wider and told me to pray another way. I remembered that part of being the good mother I ache to be means praying for my children. And so I began to pray for them instead of for myself, by name, with Scripture. And I could hear my own voice get bolder, feel my own back get straighter, hear the words of my prayers grow more confident and feel the tears dry up, as the focus shifted.
Another wise person once told me that “the best way to get rid of selfishness is to serve it away.” And that night Selfishness got served away by serving another through prayer. The night I stopped praying for myself, I found out what Love can do to my enemies.
As I thought about each of my children, and their beautiful faces, lovingly formed, I remembered the God who was so great to lend them to me, though He knew my shortcomings. I poured my cares out to the God who is powerful enough to keep them in His care no matter what, who alone can be the perfect Father for them, and the Love spilled over in my heart and left no room for Selfishness or Fear.
Yes, I may have been ill-prepared for motherhood. Yes, there will be days when I feel that truth more acutely than others.
But God is always with us, not only to help us in our mothering, but to care for our children and fill in the gaps that we leave simply due to our humanness. And one way we can consistently, faithfully love our children… one way we can practice trusting Him when fear tries to sneak in in the quiet aloneness of night… one thing we can never screw up… is prayer.
Oh, I’m not suggesting we give up praying for ourselves entirely. We need to pray daily for patience and for His strength to fill us up, don’t we?
But I’m learning… when my heart tries to linger on thoughts of myself a little too long and drag my poor prayers through the mud of fear, I’m learning to stop my heart in its tracks and point those prayers towards someone else, and put them on a track of faith, while I’m at it.
Because there’s no room for Fear of Failure when there are Loving, Serving Prayers to be prayed.
As I put sleeping Little Man down in his bed and padded softly out of his room, I thought of the One who prayed for others, who served, who loved, till the very end. Heart and body broke, but His last prayers weren’t for Himself. “Father, forgive them,” He prayed. For you. For me.
Lord, may I be more like You. May there never be a night in my house that passes without each one of my loved ones being served and loved through prayer.
Letting Love Cast Out Fear Together,
Laura Jane