The Mess of Motherhood: Leaning on Your Good Father to Figure It All OutSýnishorn

Night Walking

My baby girl, I’m sorry. My baby girl, I’ve got you, no matter how you feel. I am sorry you cannot see me. I am sorry you are cold and you have no food. I am sorry your feet hurt and you don’t know if I care.

For I love you.

I stand over this city, mightier than armies. But I also walk these streets with you, curled into the small places. I look into the hearts of my children of vacancy. Even if you make your bed in the needle heap, I am there.

This is a waiting time. There is darkness in it. I will wipe it clean. I will wash the streets. I will wrap my arms around each daughter and son who lies as if dead. I see the children who have lost hope and are looking, simply, to survive.

I see you.

I want you to do more than survive. Because simply surviving is not living—although I want to help you survive first so that you can live. I care about the details of your life—whether you have food to eat and clothes to wear and a place to sleep. I care about the details of surviving, and I care about your living, too.

For every person out here on these streets—and the people not on these streets to whom I want to come and bring justice and love—I want to grab hold of their shoulders and look them in the eyes and ask them to awake! “Awake!” I want to shake their bodies, stir their hearts, and show them I am here. I am here.

Can you hear me? Can you hear my voice?

I am here in the night as much as in the day.

My anger burns against the evil on these streets where darkness covers and light does not shine. My anger burns for the daughters and sons I ask to come help and who don’t. My anger burns against every denial of my presence on earth as it is in heaven. For there are many children, not just on these streets, who have known my name and denied me. And I love them, and there will be a day when I say, “I don’t know you.”

My heart sings over the children of the night. And here, on these streets, are the children of the day, too. I know you.

My daughter, my dear one. Call for me again. Heaven is where I am. Here. I am not far.

Awake.

Exercise & Prayer

Get in a quiet place. Think of a moment you have experienced adversity, struggle, or sought God’s presence in need. Remember the sounds around you, what things looked like, smelled like, felt like, who was nearby. What was your heart’s cry to God in that moment, when you felt desperate, when things were falling apart and you needed God to be there? Use your imagination and let yourself stay in that place for a while, remembering how you felt. Ask God to show you where he was.

Now ask God to show you a person who is struggling to know God’s love for them, right now. How does that person feel? In what tangible, specific way do they need you to love them and offer them hope, in Jesus’ name?

Father, you are with me, in all places, in all things. Nothing separates me from your love. You meet me in any adversity I face. Help me see you when I need you most. Also, help me partner with you to bring your love and hope to people who need comfort, shelter, food, companionship, friendship, love. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

We hope this Plan encouraged you! Read the complete conversations with God—and engage more deeply with His heart.