I stumble to find words to express the depth of gratitude I feel. My mother, this woman happened to me.
To describe all of the twists and turns Mom and I have walked through thus far, I would write a novel. But here, I want to testify to the joy of experiencing mother-daughter relationship the way God has allowed.
In this thrilling season of my life, God has given me a wonderful new gift. He's at work in me and mother dear to refine our love for one another, align our two hearts for his purposes across our cultural and generational divides, and even to grant us a communication beyond our language barrier, all while giving me the real-time vision to watch him do it.
Without a doubt, the joy is even sweeter because we went through our own unique fire first. We could have been mother and daughter who enjoy the same ideological perspectives, or the same primary language, or similar ideas about what I should do with my life, or at least the ability to dialogue about these things in non-polar/hyper-emotional ways. But instead, God granted us rifts and gaps, many at which I've hopelessly asked, How will she ever understand me? How will I ever understand her? How could this possibly get better? Many times I've promised myself to never bring up certain topics with Mom, to shut her out of certain parts of my life, all in an effort to escape the heartbreaking moments that would inevitably remind us how different and distant had become.
But where the chasm is too great is where Christ's cross has covered even this great distance. I still marvel at the subtle and powerful ways he has bridged our differences over time, and met my heart with hers, all to prove his power. God is not only effective; he is artful in his ways.
Then I reflect and realize that in these past few years, the topic of every sour conversation has been me. I realize that our relationship has mostly been about me. And then I realize that my mother is simply for me. She is for me before God. And I realize that she has always been my greatest advocate, campaigning tirelessly for my joy as she stands before God on my behalf.
Do you know what this does for a child?! To have a mother's intercession is to have immense favor with the God of the universe. Not favor for prosperity or a happy life, but favor to remain in his love throughout my lifetime. And this is everything. Why? Because none of us, not one, has come to the saving knowledge of Christ apart from his grace actively drawing us near to himself. Because apart from his kindness to make me new, I could never conjure up faith enough to see that he truly is who he says he is. I could never fabricate love enough to love him, let alone the world around me.
She lifts me up in Korean 주여-crying, prayer mountain-going, early morning-style intercession. He moves my heart through revelations and expressions of love in English. And he reveals himself wholly to us both, and we marvel together with the weight of a sound that language need not bear.
This is everything because Mom has been the Hannah to my Samuel, lifting up my little life to him with two hands since my life began. And the weight of this everything is on my life now as God reveals to me who my mom has always been. It is 10 steps beyond humbling, and it compels me to stretch out two open hands, echoing the chorus that she has been singing over me for the past 23 years.
A praying mom is a potent mom.
Thus, I am now praying for my unborn babies. Because the greatest gift I could ever give my children is not a healthy body or good genes or quality education, though these are all good things. It's the gift of relentless surrender and advocacy before the Lord, that their little lives would navigate their time here abiding in his love, whether by way of the prodigal son or a faithful older son, walking the narrow path to life, expending their lives to make much of Jesus in our world. The greatest gift I could give my children is to set them up for what lasts.
Let's press in and honor our mothers who do pray. If we don't necessarily have praying mothers, let's ask for the grace to become praying mothers. And of course if you are a man, you can be a praying man.
