"Who do you think you are?" "Look around you. Everyone else's words are big and good and profound. Yours don't matter."
"You're just a boy mom. What could you possibly have to say that's of any worth?"
"You're so small."
"You're giving it away? That's funny. No one will want it."
"It's not important enough."
"It's not good enough."
"YOU'RE not good enough."
Sweet friends, these are the fiery darts hurtling my way. In a few hours, I'll be setting up a table with a few small copies of Praying for Boys to give away to my friends at the Allume blogging conference. I'll sit there among women whose words move people to change. Whose words call on us to see the broken things in the world. Whose words blossom with social justice, poetic beauty, and help us find the beauty in our every day.
And I believe with all my heart that praying for our boys matters. But as I think of sitting there at that table, amongst that lovely, talented group of word girls, all I can see are the fiery, flaming darts of the enemy.
I've been broken before the Lord this weekend because I'm fighting to remember who I am, and Who I belong to. And in the midst of it all, I believe He gently whispered to me these words...maybe they're for you too?
"Make my Name great."
"Fight, my child. Fight to believe the truth. I have done this thing in you. There is no place more sacred, more effective, more powerful in the fight for our sons than the one that finds you on your knees."
So maybe I am just a boy mom—a boy mom who is messy, and makes mistakes, and hurts others, and most of the time...most of the time has no idea what she's doing.
But I'm also a boy mom who believes in the power of prayer to change hearts. I'm a boy mom called to help other moms discover delight in the chaos of raising boys as they see Jesus inviting them to have more peace in their hearts and homes.
But like Moses, I sometimes tell the Lord I'm not the right one to go.
Moses killed an Egyptian. I have my own sins I buried in the sand and left behind.
I wonder if Moses thought of that when God called him. As he slipped off his sandals on the holy ground, did he remember feeling a man's life leave his body under the weight of his own hands? Did he remember all the ways he had messed up as a boy? Did he remember running as far away from who he was as his legs could carry him?
God still found him.
God found me. God will find you.
And when He does, He'll remind us that He is the one who made our mouths. And it is I AM that I AM who sent us. He'll look at those things in our past that made us run, or make us feel less than, weighting us down in shame and regret, and He'll laugh. Not because He doesn't care, but because He sent His Son to die to forgive us for those very things. And He'll say something like...
"Don't you see, sweet one? I've redeemed you from those things. They don't define you anymore. You think you're so small, and without me you are, but from all of eternity I have known you, and loved you, and you are the apple of my eye. You're a pretty big deal to me."
So go make my Name great.
Go make His Name great.
If you're at the Allume conference this weekend, I would love to meet you during the book signing time this afternoon around 4:00. I'll have free Advanced Reader Copies of Praying for Boys to give you in hopes that God will start a fire in you to pray for your sons, and to tell others to pray for their sons...and as we do, watch God change the world.