Family
My mom, Bonnie Adams McClure, was born a million years before me—at least that’s how I felt as a teenager. She had Holiness hair, Holiness clothes and Holiness rules. Although I considered myself a Christian and I wanted to live “right,” I wanted to live according to my convictions. After all, I did know everything.
I guess my first moment of reality flooded my entire being when I came to myself in the labor room before our daughter, Bekki, was born. Until that exact moment, I realized I had been in some sort of trance. I remember thinking, “Oh my, why in the world am I in this situation. Well, there’s nothing I can do about it now.” I suddenly knew what “the deal” was. There is nothing like a baby to clear up a confused mind.
Now I know, when my mother grabbed my face and washed it or grabbed my nose and tried to squeeze it off, she just wanted me to have a pretty little clean face. When she made me wear those frilly, itchy dresses, she wanted me to look great. When she grabbed my shoulder in the middle of church service to get me to stop yapping and start listening—she really did want me to hear the Word that was coming forth. Now I also know that when my mother said, “I prayed for you while you were gone,” she wasn’t just trying to irritate me.
One night, I was at church and stayed late to talk, of course. On my way home, I stopped at a traffic light. When the light changed to green, for some reason, I hesitated. Just as I started to proceed, a car ran the red light driving so fast it was just a blur. I realized, had I driven through as soon as the light had changed, I would have been killed. When I arrived at home, my mom was up waiting for me. I was all hyped up about my near catastrophe when her first words stopped me cold. “The Lord prompted me to pray for you about five minutes ago. I don’t know why.” But, I knew.
I know I am here today because of my mother’s prayers—prayers before I was born, prayers throughout my childhood and still today. There’s a song that says, “If I Could Hear My Mother Pray Again.” I really have never heard my mother pray for me. She always entered into her “prayer closet” to pray. But the effects of her prayers have always been evident. And when she goes on to be with the Lord, I don’t know how I’ll make it without those under-girding prayers I’ve always had.
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I too agree with your perceptions wholeheartedly.
My mum invested prayer in my life and i now invest the same in my daughters lives.
This piece is a blessing to me.Keep writing