Windbreak

Praying for my kids isn’t a little thing I do in the evenings before bedtime.

Praying for my kids isn’t a ritual around the table.

Praying for my kids isn’t a part time practice, spurred by anything that looks like habit or tradition.

Praying for my kids is how I exhale as a parent. It is the full outward force of my breath.

Overnight, in the darkest hours, I once again sat outside their bedrooms and in the stillness breathed out prayer.

Everyday, every moment that I am aware of them as God’s workmanship, I pray for His hand on them.

Sometimes though, in the wee hours of morning and restless sleep, when darkness is more than a lack of light, but a thickness in the room, I must put my face toward them and become a windbreak against the enemy.

I cannot keep sickness out of their bodies. I cannot prevent irritations, pain, sniffles and upset stomach, but I can speak the name of Jesus, Prince of Peace, Shepherd, keeper of rod and staff, over them body, soul and spirit. I can pray the Psalms and usher out the darkness with a Word. I can stand against those weapons of the enemy that would wish to blow hard against their growth, their success, their fruitfulness and whip away the very soil they are rooted in. This enemy is not slow or soft, and I cannot be either.

So I take up my sword and pray. I wear out the floor in pacing or my knees in kneeling, and I am a force to be reckoned with.

It isn’t a poem to be sung in hopes of their minds recalling sweet trust in a big God. Prayer is active. Bigger than my voice, stronger than my thoughts, deeper than my passion, prayer rises out of my spirit and enters the throne of God in the sweet scent of incense. Holy Spirit breathed, translated in the tongue of faith and worship, a parent’s prayers are never, ever ignored.

So I call out His name, repeat His promises, marvel at His peace and believe again and again that this humility is worth my time and attention. I am confident, knowing that though they do not see me right outside their bedroom doors, the God who calls out for warriors is filling their rooms with peace. Scarring their very walls with a love that is unrelenting and good.

I am a windbreak against the unseen and violent throws of a despicable enemy. There is no way to predict which way it will blow next, but there is a great confidence in my parent heart, that my charges are secure, and in their very hearts grows a treasure darkness cannot touch.