by Sharon Hoffman
This is the prayer journal of Ruby Prentiss. Ruby’s name is a fiction, but she is a real composite of women I have known and loved. She is a woman in ministry facing all-tooreal challenges, not unlike the ones ministry women all over the world experience. Through her journaling, you will most likely see some of yourself and realize that you are not alone.
I recall a number of maxims my mother used, like “Do the best with what you have” or “Waste not, want not.” But the life lesson I never understood until recently is “Enjoy your children every day; they’ll be grown before you know it.” Oh, how often these past few months that phrase has echoed in my head!
Sure enough, I blinked and it happened. No one knows exactly how or when it actually happened, but my little girl is growing up. Overnight. I can almost see every other mother nodding in agreement. To be honest, I’m rather shell-shocked. Wasn’t it just yesterday that I was brushing her unruly auburn tangles? I will never forget when she confidently glided down the stairs last night to greet her handsome date before their senior banquet. How, in just 17 short years, had she grown into this gloriously beautiful young woman — with, I must add, the most wonderfully thick red hair, with a shine that most girls only dream of, swept up in the cutest modern style ever?
I remained composed during the traditional photo shoot, but as soon as our front door closed after them, my composure failed me. I simply burst into tears. My husband’s comforting arms and nonverbal affirmations weren’t much comfort. My little girl had grown up. Only two months until graduation, then we’ll be experiencing our very last summer together before she spreads her wings off to college.
Have I poured enough into her?
My experience of motherhood will go on with three more children in the home, but I couldn’t help asking myself if I’d done enough with my firstborn — enough in the most profound work I’ll ever do. I’ve always taken the admonition of rearing children in the fear and nurture of the Lord very seriously. Gripped again by the weight of responsibility, I placed my head on my pillow still asking, “Have I done enough as her mom? Enough teaching, enough listening, enough loving, enough challenging, enough being present for her times of rejoicing and times of tears?”
I remembered what it felt like when she used to love climbing up on my lap to hear a story or just to cuddle. My mom had a saying for that, too, “A mother’s lap is the place where security and where trust is developed.”
Those lap-time moments are gone forever. But hearing details about a “totally awesome, fun evening” while plopped across my bed feels almost as good. It’s a miracle, but I think I’m going to enjoy this new, sweet season in our relationship.
I finally get it. Mother was right. Those curly-haired little darlings don’t stay little for very long. Years from now when my daughter has children of her own, I pray she will share the same hopes, dreams, and miracle-prayers for them as I have had for her. Meanwhile, I’m storing every memory I can, not in boxes or on shelves in closets, but down deep in my heart. When I long for my daughter to be near, missing her desperately this fall, I’m going to need to climb right up into the lap of Jesus. He held the little ones and blessed them. I know He will do the same for me. I will leave the miracles to Him.
Prayer: Thank you, my Father, for our little ones. In the grand scheme of things, I know they must grow up and often leave home. And when that day comes, as it will come, I’ll understand that all this is part of Your plan for my children. They are not mine; they were never mine; they are Yours. How I thank You that You never leave me nor forsake me. I ask for strength and peace that only comes from laying my Issacs down.
Verse: “I have no greater joy than to hear that my children walk in truth.” (3 John 4)