The Power of a Mom's Prayers

When I was about 20 weeks along in this pregnancy and feeling like the first trimester sickness had long over-stayed its welcome (ok, it was never welcome in the first place), I tried my last option of nausea ridding medications. It didn't work and it sent me into a bit of self-despair.

I woke the next morning still sobbing, thinking there was no way I would make it another 20 minutes, let alone another 20 weeks. I did what any self-respecting adult would do in my situation and called my mom.

She came over within an hour and sat next to me on the couch as I wailed my way through my own self-pity. Being the oh, so wise woman she is, she listened until I could cry no more. Then she placed her hand on my knee and prayed for me. Afterwards she told me that it was okay to allow myself a few moments every so often to wallow in my sorrows. "Get a good cry in for 10 minutes or so and then...move on."

That thought comforted me for two reasons. One, I was allowed to feel sorry for myself every once in awhile (not daily she told me). And two, I could give myself the freedom to move on. It was a plan. Not my favorite one (I'd much rather just feel great for the next 20 weeks thank you very much), but one that allowed a reaction and a doable action.

Then she said that she would be praying that God would send encouragement my way. She would pray that when I needed it most, God would put an angel in my path to lift me up.

Tonight we had some dear friends over for dinner.  By the time they arrived, I was plopped on the couch taking a breath from the work of cooking dinner. I was so worn out that I couldn't even get up to welcome them. Instead, they came to me and greeted me with such sweet love that I felt absolutely no guilt for being where I was. Then the husband said, "You are absolutely one of the most beautiful pregnant women I have ever seen."

I was focused on my inability to be the hostess I wanted to be, my swollen ankles and the shirt that was creeping up above the elastic band on my jeans when his words washed over me. They were just the balm I needed.

I didn't feel any pride at his compliment. In fact, I struggle not to laugh at statements like that because I feel that they are the farthest thing from the truth. However, because of our relationship, I knew that they were not obligatory, but sincere.

Suddenly, I was reminded of my mother's prayer for me 14 weeks ago. I was amazed by God's faithfulness and astounded at the power of my mother's prayers. You see, I know my mom even better than I know this friend and I am sure of this - my mom is still praying for me...all the time. And God, being the loving father He is, He's not only hearing them, but answering them. In fact, He has been answering them since the day she first prayed them.

I have felt worse this pregnancy than with any of the others, and yet, people continue to tell me how good I look, how they would never know I wasn't feeling well, and how small I am. They say these things on the days I feel the worse or most self-conscious about everything.

They are my angels...sent by God and my mom's prayers. What would I do without them?