Whatever It Takes, Lord

It has been a very long time since I made a 2 a.m. drive to the airport. This is not my first choice when I sit down to analyze the flights available to wherever I am headed, while also calculating how early I have to get up for said flight and what time I must leave the house for the drive.

Flight goals usually look like this: not having to change my sleep schedule too much to accommodate the flight, considering how light or heavy traffic will be at that hour, whether I’ll have enough time to run by the lounge to refill my large water jug with ice and water so I don’t have to pay five dollars for a bottle of lukewarm water, and I am not ashamed to admit, what kind of seat selection is available. I want to be close to the bathroom, but far enough away not to be bothered by the traffic or the possible aroma that may leak out. I don’t necessarily want the bulkhead seat because then you have to put ALL your belongings in the overhead bin…what if the fasten seatbelt sign never turns off and I need something out of it?

You know… as my husband says, “first world problems.”

But this one was different.

This was a flight where showing up meant witnessing the power of persistence in a mother’s prayer and the grace of God. A moment where the Lord was revealing Himself through seeds that had been planted years ago. A moment that had Kingdom impact.

At some point, if I had to guess, most of us, if not all, have had seasons of parenting where we wonder if we missed the mark. If all the seeds we planted in our children have fallen on rocky ground. We watch, just as I am positive my own mom watched me, as they wander in the desert. We feel helpless, knowing our kids have to work out their salvation for themselves.

This is where faith meets facts, and feelings have to be combated with warrior-like prayers. Where moms and dads hit their knees and cry out to God, begging Him not to allow their child’s heart to harden.

After Christopher died, I clung so tightly to everything and everyone around me for fear of losing more. My prayer life began to shift from, “Lord, I finally truly understand sovereignty, have Your way,” to, “Lord, do whatever it is in their life that leads them to full surrender to You… BUT don’t let it be so much that I can’t handle it.”

There I was, crying out for God to remove the scales from their eyes and open their ears, and yet I was carefully placing Him in a box with limits I thought might save me from more devastation.

Well friends, the scales that fell first were the ones in my own life. I had to surrender it all. Those prayers had to shift from, “But don’t let it be more than I can handle,” to, “Whatever it takes, Lord. I trust You.”

I trust You to know what You are doing in my child’s life — or allowing in my child’s life. And I trust You that whatever happens, You will see me through.

You have.
And You will.

After many sleepless nights and wailing before the Lord, I walked into my closet, and Holy Spirit spoke to my heart, telling me I was to pray for two solid weeks without ceasing, with very specific instructions.

The enemy was not giving up the ground he had claimed throughout generations without a fight. But the fight was on, and my family and sisters in Christ rallied to remind him that he had already been defeated and had no claim. Colossians 2:15

It has been a crazy roller coaster. I have had a front-row seat to how the enemy comes as an angel of light and tries to cause division. But God.

In fact, at one point, the very reason I am headed home on this red-eye was not even going to be shared with me — nor was I going to be invited. But uninvited is not unfamiliar. There have been many instances where my momma heart just wanted to celebrate the wins and not only be the emergency exit call. But that is not where God has had me in this journey.

In fact, that may be exactly where you are — left with an aching, grieving heart for the things the enemy has been allowed to use to cause division. Disguised as boundaries. The whiplash of changing rules disguised as protection. The twisting of words to meet agendas. Covenant thrown around with no true understanding of its meaning.

Yet there I was, two weeks to the day on the timeline the Lord gave me to pray, leaving on a jet plane to witness a baptism where, less than two weeks ago, when asked if they wanted to accept Jesus as their Savior, the answer was “no.”

That is not a coincidence.

Neither is the fact that I ended those two weeks sitting in a room with over 4,000 women seeking Jesus, and He was speaking directly to me. Affirming me. Affirming my prayers. Correcting me. Growing me.

Maybe you are in a season where you ache for what you see happening in the flesh and are questioning or wondering where you went wrong. Maybe you have even stood before someone who has outright blamed or questioned your motherhood based on the decisions your adult child is making.

My grandfather used to say, “You make the best decisions you know how with the information you have at the time.”

What I have learned through the years is that we all carry some form of trauma or brokenness into adulthood. We get to choose whether to do the hard work of healing or whether we will use it as an excuse, or even, in some cases, a weapon. Sin has no discretion. It does not only attach itself to broken families; it also attaches itself to families who love the Lord and seem perfectly whole or “wholesome.”

Hindsight will steal your joy.

Remember the Prodigal Son in Luke 15:11–32. God promises in Jeremiah 31:16–17 that “they shall come back from the land of the enemy.” Nothing can separate them from the love of God Romans 8:38–39. As much as we love our children and as deeply as their wanderings break our hearts, the Lord loves them even more and is waiting patiently for them to return, just as the father of the Prodigal Son did.

He did not chase him down or try to control his outcome. He released him to go. And when he returned, he welcomed him. The Bible says he was filled with compassion for him.

Psalm 139:7–10 reminds us that our children cannot escape God’s presence, even as they wander in the desert.

Stand on the promise of Ezekiel 11:19:
“I will give them an undivided heart and put a new spirit in them; I will remove from them their heart of stone and give them a heart of flesh.”

And friend, if He can do it for me, He can do it for you.

The same God who hears midnight prayers.
The same God who breaks generational chains.
The same God who softens hardened hearts.

He has not forgotten your child.
He has not forgotten you.

Much love,

Chrissy

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