Most mornings throughout the school year were the same. Wake my two children, get them dressed and fed, hand off lunch boxes and backpacks, pray the armor of God over them, and get them out the door and headed to the bus stop. If we ran short on time, I would pray the same prayer […]
Most mornings throughout the school year were the same. Wake my two children, get them dressed and fed, hand off lunch boxes and backpacks, pray the armor of God over them, and get them out the door and headed to the bus stop.
If we ran short on time, I would pray the same prayer once they were on the other side of the door. The armor of God is a marvelous spiritual truth with great imagery. Who wouldn’t want their children to be girded with the belt of truth, the breastplate of righteousness, shoes of the gospel of peace, the shield of faith, the helmet of salvation, and the sword of the Spirit as they head into each new day?
But there was a problem. My confidence in their safety each day was dependent upon the words I prayed. It became a ritual that I believed was necessary in order for God to protect them. If I forgot to pray, I would immediately become fearful that I had put my children in harm’s way.
My fear that a failure to pray might cause my children harm spoke volumes about how I viewed my heavenly Father. Would a good father remove his hand of protection over his children just because a well-meaning mother was too tired or distracted to pray? Looking back now, that seems absurd. But I didn’t always believe in God’s essential goodness.
Sure, I believed in God. I’d given my life to Jesus. I’d experienced the power of the Holy Spirit. But, if I’m honest, God always seemed a little distant and scary. Less like a comforting parent, more like a taskmaster. In time, this belief began to be revealed in my prayer life. I tried to pray with the “right” words. I prayed only for the sake of pushing back fear and anxiety. I prayed with pleading and bargaining, like I was the persistent widow (Luke 18:1-8 NIV), pounding on the door of the unjust judge. But our God is not an unjust judge — He is a loving Father!
He is not waiting to smite us or our loved ones if we don’t pray the right words at the right time — He delights in our prayers.
What is your view of our heavenly Father? Do you see Him as an ever-present comforter? A faithful protector? The One who loves you most? Or do you view Him more like the unjust judge who didn’t care about others or what they thought? When fear threatens to consume us, it’s important to remember that God isn’t waiting for us to pray the perfect prayer before He comes to our aid. He is a good Father who always has our best interest at heart.
Now, I realize that my view of God was grounded in a fear of punishment. A fear that even if things seemed good, the other shoe was sure to drop. Why? Because I didn’t feel worthy of God’s love. I believed He might help if I showed my faithfulness in prayer, but that was all on me. I’d put my trust in my ability to please, or perhaps appease, Him. But that’s not what God was looking for. All He ever wanted was a heart open to His love.
Beloved, God is for you, not against you!
I sometimes wish I could go back and whisper this truth to myself, the young mom who was so fearful to send her children out the door each morning. I wish I could tell her that God really does love her, and her children too. I wish I could tell her that it really will be okay. I would tell her, “The Lord himself goes before you and will be with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged” (Deuteronomy 31:8-9 NIV).
Beloved, even if you don’t yet believe this, it’s okay. That doesn’t change who God is. Simply ask Him to reveal more of His love to you. Ask Him to show you His tender goodness. Surely, He is a good Father who delights to give good gifts to His children, and His perfect love really does drive out fear.
