My Praying Knees

Many a mom looks down at her stretched belly skin, her spit-up stained clothing, and blood-shot, sleep-deprived eyes and would trade none of them for the precious sleeping baby in her arms. Those external indicators of new motherhood are worn as badges of honor. Those badges are distant memories for me, likewise for most parents of young adults. These days, when my kids no longer live under our roof, my clothing is no longer spit-up stained, and I’m more likely to be sleep-deprived from a phone call or text from kids whose evening activities begin at precisely the hour I’m winding down, the badge of honor I’m most proud to display is my calloused praying knees. I heard the phrase in a country song, and just love it. Praying knees.

If you divided our kids in half, three of the seven required far more prayer than the other four. Truth be told, we should be candidates for knee replacement with the hours those three had us on our knees! But oh, was it worth it in the end.

Today we celebrate Matt, our oldest son and second child, along with Jill, next in line after Matt. (Our third that kept us on our knees is Jackie, but I’ve blogged about her here: This is to honor Matt and Jill.) 

Yesterday our high school hosted the Wrestling Sectional Tournament, which required all-hands-on-deck parent involvement, so I filled up a couple time slots in the concession booth. There was a lull in the late afternoon and an interesting dynamic took place between myself and a couple other mothers. One of them turned to me and said, ‘Soooo, 13-year old girls…’ Without saying another word, her eyes said it all: “HELP!!” I never liked when parents whose kids were older than mine felt it necessary to threaten me and regale us with horror stories about what’s to come in the next stage of my kids’ growth and development ~ particularly the teenage years. For one thing, I had a hard time imagining that I’d have any trouble with any of them, that is, until we actually started having trouble. But since she asked me for advice, we chatted. There’s no easy formula, no secret manual. For us, it took prayer and lots of it. I needed the help of a big, strong God that created them and loves them enough to choose me for their mom.

I can take credit for two things: knowing I needed help, and never giving up on them. And thank God I didn’t! I’ve always thought that the harder the devil fights you on something, the greater the reward. And God knew that both of these two would grow up to be something special.


The talent alone represented in this picture is incredible. The beauty is evident. But what you can’t see are their hearts. Hearts that love their family so much, and their God even more. Hearts that hurt for the wounded and oppressed, and hearts that want their friends to be able to experience the love of God and family. They’ve grown into beautiful representatives of what prayer can do, and we wouldn’t trade a minute of the difficult for the adults they are today.

Happy Birthday Matt! And we celebrated Jill a couple weeks ago. My knees are calloused and worn, but you’re both oh, so worth it!!



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