The most agonizing moments of my experience as a mother have been those times when my youngest daughter, Carly, has been in pain — a pain she can’t explain to me and a kind of pain that I may never be able to make go away. For all the things Larry and I have tried to do for her over the years, there is increasing awareness that there is often little more that we can do but pray.
Raising a child who cannot talk and who has complex developmental and health issues has stretched me in many ways but probably, most of all, it has been teaching me to surrender things I cannot (even should not) try to control. This experience keeps teaching me to embrace the precious intimacy and power of prayer.
We can learn a lot from the way people in the Bible pray.
Samuel listened and responded decisively to God’s call.
David laid his heart bare before the Lord.
Paul prayed often for others and frequently used written prayers to encourage.
But since it’s the Christmas season and because I’ll be talking with a group of young moms tomorrow, I got to thinking about what we can learn about prayer from Mary, the mother of our Lord. Among the many reasons why I’m drawn to Mary during this season is that we have been in a prolonged season of caring for Carly through issues we’ve not been able to understand or fix.
As I watched the movie The Passion years ago, the scenes that most brought me to tears were those of the frantic Mary trying to wrap her heart around the most painful but holy moments her Son would ever endure. It’s arguable that there were numerous other scenes that should have gripped me more, but I must admit, it was resonating with Mary’s mother-heart that tore me to pieces. Even with Mary’s deep trust in God and with whatever appreciation she must have had for the eternal value of the events unfolding before her, there was nothing that could soothe her broken-heartedness in those profoundly overwhelming hours of Jesus’ suffering.
Tomorrow during my talk we’ll be unpacking several things about how Mary prays that can be helpful reflection at any time of year but especially as we consider the awe and wonder of Christmas — what it meant then and what it means today. If you’d like to dig deeper with me on that, check out the list at the end of my post.
I’m taking a couple of things away from the kind of woman Mary must have been. I think she was like our modern-day prayer walkers. She seemed to be in a constant state of prayer, attentive to all that was going on around her and quietly pondering — continuing to be a woman of persistent prayer right into the earliest days of the Christian church (Acts 2:14). I don’t know about you but I’m inspired.
Today I’m also taking notes from David’s book (metaphorically mostly, but also quite literally going to the Psalms) and praying from an anguished soul. I’m weary and battle-worn from parenting Carly and the intensity of her needs and our shared suffering. After another very rough night last night, Larry and I are in the midst of yet more prayerful pondering about what to do next while expressing raw emotions before each other and the Lord as David did. But I am also increasingly praying, as Mary did, with a quiet and pondering heart.
I would be on the fringes of sanity without prayer, without my Lord’s constant availability for conversation. I am brought to my knees with gratitude for the intimate way I have of connecting with my Savior on a most holy level.
Certainly we need a Savior to pay the penalty of sin for us but we can also claim Jesus as the One who keeps saving us from suffering that threatens to consume us — the One who extends mercy and power to us through the Holy Spirit so that we can keep a heavenly perspective and remain strengthened for the journey.
Some things Mary modeled:
TRUST—Luke 1:45, Luke 1:50, Luke 2:48-50
QUIET & PONDERING—Luke 2:19