On a bright August day, I sat across from her. In the birthplace of creativity where the nectar of the ‘little-g’ gods flows hot, we were chattin’. The delight that I felt when she said it swirled, warm and happy, all the way down to my toes. Like the coffee fillin’ my cup. Yeah. Just like that.
“My mom is awesome. She encourages me.”
I looked into her face, this lovely, young girl. I’d seen her run. Pure poetry in motion, strong and swift on cross-country trails. But today, it was her heart I admired. Her heart, her love for her mother, and her faith.
“My mom is awesome.”
I’ve been thinkin’ on this ever since. Here’s why.
My husband and I are raisin’ boys. And on our end, we are doin’ everything we know to do to raise ’em up right. To train ’em in that way they should go.
But that is half the equation. Somewhere, other mothers and fathers are raisin’ the girls our boys will marry. And together, they will give us our grandbabies. What’s happenin’ right now in those homes is crucial to the stability and survival of the marriages of our kids.
The prayer I offer in moments alone is that Papa would raise our sons up to be mighty oaks. Men of courage. Warriors and leaders, movers and shakers. That there would ever be a righteous line. From us down.
A line that’s started with us. With this small, caffeinated mother and their strong, blue-eyed father.
Along with that, I have prayed for the girls He will send. For the women who will love our four sons. For your girls.
One day when I was out puttin’ in my three miles beneath God’s great, spreading sky, I thought of my boys; thought of your girls, and this is what I asked for them all. “Papa, surround them with songs of deliverance. Let Your favor surround them like a shield.”
And there beside the greening corn, my heart thrilled at this thought. That somewhere in the world, God was growin’ up some stellar young women, and even now, His favor was surrounding them like a shield. That Papa Himself was singing around them, surrounding them with songs…
And all the while, He was doin’ the same for my sons. Ah, imagine. A righteous line.
“My mom is awesome.”
I want to stand up and shout, to applaud! For a godly mother who’s doin’ her job well. For the other mothers who are givin’ their best to raise the girls who will marry my boys. For a God Who can always be trusted.
Hey, you. You’re doin’ a good job! Keep doin’ that. And meanwhile, let’s pray for each other.
For Him, for the next generation,
*Psalm 5:12, Psalm 32:7