The Legacies that Choose Us

My parents went through the same routine every morning. They would eat breakfast and enjoy a cup of coffee before reading from the Bible or from a devotional. Then they would pray. With eyes closed and folded hands they would address all the needs on their memorized prayer list, reminding their Heavenly Father of areas that needed his intervention. They prayed for nations, for governments, for ministries and church leaders, for friends and neighbors.

Then they would pray for their family.

My parents would confidently come before the Lord and mention each and every one of us by name. Their five children and their sons- and daughters-in-law. The families of all the in-laws. Their 14 grandchildren and 3 great grandchildren. They gently placed us all at the feet of the Father. No matter where we were in life or in our walk with Jesus, my parents remained in their covenant relationship with the Father. My house shall serve the Lord. Call them all home, Father God. Don’t miss a single one of them. They are yours.

As my dad went home to be with Jesus my mother continued her mission: praying us all into the arms of the Father. Some of us have stayed on the straight and narrow, while others are taking a few detours on the way. We all know that mom is praying for us. Whenever something’s going on and we feel scared or intimidated by circumstances we make sure to tell her. You’d think that we would shield this frail, 5 ft 2 in old lady from bad news or difficulties, but nope. We need her to be on post. She is our prayer warrior, our fierce lioness, our devoted intercessor.

Besides, we secretly believe that God has a soft spot for mothers.

He definitely seems to have one for ours. He let his glory rest upon her and she was changed. She awoke to a new hope and purpose. My 83-year-old mother is excited to see her prayers answered and rejoices as she listens to stories of what God is doing. Her eyes sparkle and she claps her hands, saying: “Nothing is impossible for our God! Nothing!”

She is adamant about one issue, though. “Marian, I’ve heard stories of people who have died, and who have been prayed back from the dead. That’s all good and wonderful, but I’m warning you: Don’t you dare try that with me! If I’m dead I’ve gone to be with Jesus, and that’s where I’m staying! Do you hear me?”

Loud and clear, Mom. Loud and clear.

I treasure my mother’s gifting, her dedication and her endless love for us. It terrifies me to think that one day she won’t be here. My brother put my thoughts into words when he said: “Soon this will be our calling: carrying our entire family in prayer.” Hearing it spoken out loud hit me like a ton of bricks. Of course we will miss our mother’s love and touch when she’s gone, but more than anything, we’ll miss her prayers.

I’m afraid I won’t be able to fill the shoes of this tiny woman.

She has an ability to pour herself out in prayer. I don’t think I have that. As least not now. I pray that I will inherit it from my mother and that God by his grace may increase my ability to love, my willingness to sacrifice, and my perseverance in prayer.

Did you have parents who prayed for you? Or maybe it was your grandmother, an aunt or an uncle who carried you in front of the Father?

What legacy do you get to step into?

What is the calling over your life that flows in your family? Which words were spoken over you that stirred your spirit and made your heart sing? What made you feel genuinely interested, overwhelmed and terrified?

Maybe it was a neighbor who regularly spoke out your name to the Father? Or a teacher?

Who prayed you into the Kingdom? Or are you still on your way?

I would love to hear your story. Would you do me the honor of sharing?