I’m still recovering from a super busy week, so while I get organized again, here’s a story for you about how I’m NOT a control freak (wink-wink). Hope you have a happy Monday!
For the past 19 years, I’ve prayed for one young lady in particular, then 16 years ago, I started praying for another. I don’t know anything about them at all, yet they’ve stayed on my prayer list month after month, year after year. The only thing I do know about them is that someday, they will marry my two sons.
I pray,
“Dear God, I know you are in total control of bringing the perfect young ladies into my sons’ lives and you know best who is right for them. I don’t even know what these fine young ladies are named, but please let it be something respectable and traditionally spelled so it doesn’t look ridiculous on the invitations. I don’t know where in the world they live, but Father in Heaven, you know I will break out in a hissy-fit topped by hives if they weren’t raised in the South.
And Lord, I ask that you will give these girls good parents who have taught them right from wrong – parents who have taken them to Vacation Bible School, summer camps and their Grandparent’s houses. Let the future additions to my family have Mamas that proved their love for their daughters by clipping giant bows in their blonde, red or light brown, slightly wavy hair, because of course, those hair colors will be a good match for my boys’ complexions and will look fabulous on future Christmas cards.
You told us Lord, that beauty is fleeting and the true character of a woman is far above rubies, but would it hurt to let these girls be just a little bit pretty, at least in the eyes of my boys . . . and actually, would it hurt if my friends thought they were pretty too?
Like your devoted servant Winston Churchill said, “The most beautiful voice in the world is that of an educated Southern woman,” so I ask you to please let these future daughters-in-law have the gift of a good education – but I beg you not to send them to the University of Florida because we just can’t have that kind of ruckus in the family. You know I’m not asking for these girls to be brain surgeons as long as they can give me brilliant grandchildren, thank you Kind Creator.
And Father, although I don’t demand these precious girls come from entitlement, because that often creates spoiled and demanding girls, please let them at least have had the opportunity to attend cotillion so they will know which fork to use, because you know how I’ve threatened my boys over the years by telling them a girl will someday break up with them for using the salad fork for the pot roast. Not that I’m trying to tell you what to do or anything like that God, but just this once, can you let the boys be amazed that I knew what I was talking about and (the right kind of) girls really do care about such things?
And Heavenly Creator, I trust you will use your perfect timing to allow my boys to meet these girls at exactly the right point in their lives, but not too early, because you know how people around here will talk, but don’t wait too long either because I still want to look cute in the photos and be able to dance at the weddings.
Gracious God, I humbly ask that you let these two sweet girls fall in love with my home in Alabama and want to live near me and not drag my boys off to the far ends of the earth, but please don’t let them think I’ll babysit all the time.
But Lord, if for some reason, these future daughters-in-love are sad little orphans with no one to teach them about how we should always trust you with every detail of our lives and not try to tell you what to do . . . well then thank you God, because I’ll get to plan the weddings myself! Bless their sweet little hearts, and a big Amen to you!
*
This story first appeared in The Baldwin Times.