ACTS 1: 12-14
12 Then the apostles returned to Jerusalem from the hill called the Mount of Olives, a Sabbath day’s walk from the city.13 When they arrived, they went upstairs to the room where they were staying. Those present were Peter, John, James and Andrew; Philip and Thomas, Bartholomew and Matthew; James son of Alphaeus and Simon the Zealot, and Judas son of James.14 They all joined together constantly in prayer, along with the women and Mary the mother of Jesus, and with His brothers.
ACTS 1:12-14 WHAT HAPPENS WHEN MOTHERS PRAY?
SPRINGFORD BAPTIST CHURCH: MOTHERS DAY May 14, 2023.
After Jesus returned to heaven and while they were waiting for the promised Holy Spirit, what were the early believers including the apostles; the women; (possibly the wives of the apostles); Mary the mother of Jesus and His brothers doing? They were constantly in prayer! This is the last time that Scripture mentions Mary, the mother of Jesus and it emphasizes that she was praying, constantly in prayer.
The gift of prayer is a gift that many mothers employ. It is out of necessity because there is a strong realization on the part of parents that help is so needed in the raising of children and grandchildren!
God in His wisdom has designed families as the place where children are meant to be loved and nurtured. Mothers who pray have such an important role in teaching their children lessons of faith. They also receive strength and reassurance for their vital role of parenting and for all aspects of life that they must navigate.
Mary, the mother of Jesus would have prayed when she was on her own and she also recognized the importance of joining together with others in prayer. We are a family of faith when we pray together. When you think about it, one of the simplest descriptions of prayer is recognizing that God is with us and we choose to turn to Him for help. This is what mothers have always been choosing to do.
Here is the true story of a mother who chose to pray. Her son tells the story in his own words:
The waiting was the worst. Waiting in an exam room at the hospital where I’d finished chemotherapy for Stage 4 Hodgkin’s lymphoma a year earlier. Waiting for the oncologist to come in with my lab results. Waiting to see if the little bumps by my collarbone were just residual scar tissue.
Waiting, holding my wife’s hand, praying we would be given the all clear to live our lives. I was 24 and my wife was 23. We’d been married for five years. We had so much ahead of us, didn’t we? Filling the home we’d just built with children, making a lifetime of memories together.
But one glance at the oncologist’s face as he walked into the room told me that we’d have to put our dreams on hold again.“Your biopsy came back positive for Hodgkin’s lymphoma,” he said. “I’m very sorry.”
My wife squeezed my hand so hard, I could tell she was struggling to keep it together. I couldn’t look at her or I would break down. I had to be strong. Her mother had died of lung cancer not long after our wedding. My wife wouldn’t be able to bear losing someone else she loved. Not now. Not to cancer again.
The oncologist explained that since my cancer was resistant to the chemotherapy I’d already had, I would need a bone-marrow transplant. But the procedure had such a high risk of complications that I would have only a 20-percent chance of surviving it.
“When can we start?” I asked. The oncologist thought I didn’t realize how serious my situation was. I knew. But I didn’t believe in percentages. I believed in God. I would do my best to fight the cancer. The rest was in the Lord’s hands. Bottom of Form
My wife and I went back to our room at the hotel. It was hard calling our family and friends to break the news. My mother burst into tears when I told her. The stress of the day took its toll. My wife and I went to bed exhausted. I fell asleep almost immediately.
Something woke me in the middle of the night. A touch. A hand gently brushing my cheek. I thought maybe it was my wife. Was she getting up for some water? I opened my eyes. It wasn’t my wife leaning over me. She was sound asleep. It was Jesus, gazing at me with such love in his eyes—more love than I had ever felt before, than I had even thought was possible.
“I am with you.” His lips didn’t move, but I heard him as clearly as if He had spoken. And in a way, He had, through His touch. Then He lifted His hand from my cheek and left, and it seemed as if my worries and my cancer were lifted from me too. I went back to sleep confident that I had a lot more life to live.
First thing in the morning, I told my wife all about my encounter. “I saw Jesus!” I said excitedly. “He actually touched my face!” I showed her the exact spot on my right cheekbone where I’d felt the brush of His hand.
She thought I’d simply had an awesome dream. We went to a restaurant for breakfast. I asked my wife to grab us a table. I couldn’t keep what had happened to myself. I went to phone my Mom.
“Chris?” Mom sounded frightened, and no wonder, considering the last news she’d heard from me. “You’ll never believe what happened last night!” I said. I told her about Jesus coming to me in the night. His caress. His parting words.
Silence. Then Mom started sobbing. “Why are you crying?” I asked. “I’m going to be fine.”
Finally, she composed herself. “Chris, you don’t understand,” she said.“Last night, after you called, I asked God over and over for one specific thing. I asked him to be with you.” Jesus didn’t just come to comfort me, He came to answer my prayer for you as your mother.
There was one more thing I didn’t understand at the time—not until my wife and I had the first of our three sons. Late one night he woke up with a fever. I held my baby and tried to comfort him. If only I could transfer his sickness to me and suffer for him, I thought, stroking his cheek with my fingers.
Suddenly I was brought back to the night that Jesus had touched me. At last I recognized the love I’d seen in Jesus’ eyes. It was the love a parent has for their children.
When we pray for those we love and care about, we are coming to our loving God who already knows and cares so deeply for them too.
I recall being at our daughter Angela’s bedside last summer when she was so critically ill. At times, the only words that I could find, were, “God help us.”
Our God hears every prayer. When mothers pray, they are recognizing that there is only so much they can do and they are reaching beyond their capacity to implore God’s capacity. This is something that Jesus’ own mother Mary did and this is something that we can all do.
Prayer does not guarantee the answers for which we long. When we pray and God does not answer as we desperately hope He will, still God is with us and with those for whom we pray. He is with every mother who prays and He is reassuring of His tender love and compassion.
A mother who prays is not alone in the depth of her concern.
Prayer for all of us is an avenue to choose when we know we cannot face what we are facing alone. We are asking God to accompany us and those we love wherever things go.
I am so thankful that all of us can make a habit of being constantly in prayer! When we pray, we are depending on God and choosing to bring everything to God in prayer. We are inviting God’s Holy Spirit to bless us and to help us and guide us and our families. This is the best thing Moms can do with every concern and it is the best thing any of us can do-to be a family of faith together constantly in prayer and trusting Jesus!