Time to Pray


This morning I woke up early - I say early because I beat everyone else to the punch...even Parker - and I actually spent time reading a devotion and in prayer. 

I would think that becoming a Mommy (especially to baby number two) would make me pray more (if nothing else for sanity, no?), but somehow it's not the first thing I do when I start my day, and I fall asleep at just the thought of talking to one more person, even if it is God, before I go to bed each night. 

I remember realizing right after Jake was born I had let the time I was spending with him become more and more than the time I was spending with the One who allowed him to be born.  I remember thinking, "Here's this precious life God has entrusted me with who I prayed and pleaded for for so long, and now I'm not even saying so much as Thank You each day for this incredible gift."  Imagine my guilt. 

Fast forward eighteen months to the days when I went back to work and Jake started preschool.  It's as if the first day was yesterday...but it wasn't.  And now to almost four a half years later when my mornings begin with breakfast to the tunes of Sesame Street, rice cereal and plastic bibs, "Mommy, You know what I want for eat?", honey buns and bedhead, a bouncy seat in my bathroom, and hoping I have something in my closet to wear that doesn't need to be ironed.  Imagine not having the time to feel guilty.

But because of His awesome power, He "...is able to do immeasurably more than [I] ask or think..."  (Ephesians 3:20).  Praise His name!  When I tell someone, "I'll be praying for you." but I don't...He heals them anyway.  When I forget to ask for His protection when I get in the car with my family to drive nine hours one way to Walt Disney World...He get us there safely regardless.  When I postpone taking Parker to preschool three days because I just don't know how to let go...He sends home a report card every afternoon with a huge smiley face on the front with notes from Ms. Kellan that he took a two and a half hour nap and almost fell asleep in the sunshine.

And as of this morning, He gave me time - not because I asked but because He "...knows [my] heart..." (Acts15:8).  It may not happen just like it did today, but in the moments I'm facing Parker and feeding him in his hand-me-down highchair, I'll say, "Thanks."  In the moments when I leave my driveway wondering what job God has chosen for Jim to do next, I'll say, "Please."  And I know without a doubt I'll be amazed at what He's able to do when He keeps giving me the time to have these little talks with Him.

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