To Mothers: A Call to Prayer

There is no historical figure more familiar to Americans than George Washington. No one will deny his greatness.  The father of our country, he was undoubtedly used by God to win a revolution and establish a new country based on faith, principle, and moral conscience. Old paintings show a poised George Washington, standing erect and resolute, tall and dignified. A most admirable father.

And yet there was a person of little renown who was working behind the scenes in Father George’s life.  It was a mother. It was his mother. What was never painted was her sitting on dampened earth with a bible in her lap, her elbows resting on a large rock, supporting hands with fingers intertwined in prayer.  This was George Washington’s mother, Mary Ball Washington, and this rock is commemorated today right here in Fredericksburg.

The plaque that designates Meditation Rock says: “Mary Ball Washington prayed for the safety of her son and country during the dark days of the Revolution.” That very rock, near Kenmore Park, close to her burial site, is the site of her devotions.  Historians testify that she prayed daily and read her bible daily at that very spot.  It’s sacred ground because embedded deep within the layers of that large rock are the tears of a mother who was willing to stand before the great throne of God on behalf of a son in danger and a country under assault. Driven deep into the dirt of that site, are the cries of a mother who knew that only God could transform a farm boy from Stafford, Virginia, and only God could raise a fledgling nation.

Do we not have our own dark revolution?  Are not our own sons and daughters in danger? 

Mothers, it’s time to find your Rock.  It’s time to pray.  We have a revolution at hand.  Satan is seeking to steal the God-ordained identities given to our children at birth.  Entertainment is numbing our children’s minds, so that their minds are undisciplined and too weak to pursue the truths of His Word.  Technology is screaming voices and flashing images on big and small screens, filling their minds with distracting words and philosophies and images that suck their hearts away from the Living God.

But while satan uses the culture to harass our families and sow chaos, we can go to The Rock.  “From the end of the earth I will cry to You, when my heart is overwhelmed; Lead me to the rock that is higher than I.” Psalm 61:2

I have been to Meditation Rock.  It’s open to the public, and it’s still a secluded spot. I have poured out my heart there for the lives of my own children and the future of my country, my tears dripping to the surface of that rock, like the thousands of raindrops fallen through the years that connect the tears of Mary Washington with my own.  Not that I think the Lord hears my prayers more clearly at that rock than my bedroom chair or porch swing.  But it is an act of faith and recognition that like Mary Ball Washington, I am just a mom, and my kids are just people, and that God is not just any god, but El Shaddai, the Great God Almighty.  It is just me, a mom, taking my stand on my knees, offering my Isaac before Him. “For who is God besides the LORD? And who is the Rock except our God?” (Ps. 18:31) For he is the Rock of our salvation. (Ps. 95:1)

Mothers, now is the time to take your stand. Humble yourself before the Living Rock.  Ask for a new revolution, the revolution of revival in the hearts of our families, our churches, the city of Fredericksburg, all of Northern Virginia, and the country. Ask the Lord to send His Holy Spirit to replace our stony hearts with softened, fertile hearts that receive the gospel of Jesus Christ. Ask for faith; ask for repentance; ask for healing; ask for deliverance, and don’t stop asking.

Take your arrows and strike the ground– not once, nor twice, but many times, just as Johoash was told to do so by Elisha in 2 Kings 13. The arrows were “The Lord’s arrow of victory.” When Johoash half-heartedly struck the ground just three times instead of many, he lost the final victory.  The Lord would give him three strikes against the enemy, but not a total victory because of his lackadaisical faith.

Every day we must strike our arrows to the ground. Every day we must pray, but not an army of prayers battering the walls of the great throne room with force to stir God.  God forbid! It’s not God who must be moved. We must pray prayers that are carried on the soft whispers of His Word, whispering His love and promises for us back to Him. Giving back to Him what He has already given us, aligning our own hearts with His own.  The power of prayer is a heart to heart conversation whispered from One Love to another. It does not lie in loudness, nor passion, nor eloquence. Just as the roaring waves wear down the rocks into a sandy shoreline, so our prayers grind out the purposes of God in our own hearts, the tide of His will softly lapping over our lives and the lives of those we pray for.

Mothers, now is the time. Today is the day of salvation.

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