I found myself praying these verses with intensity. A mother for her children.
I am praying for them. For the children you've given me, because they are yours. Every child I've ever called "mine" is yours, and I am blessed by the gift of them. And one day you'll bring me to you. Out of the world I'll be taken, but they will remain. Holy Father, keep them in your name, which you have given me, as your adoptive daughter, that they may be a part of this family, even as I am.
While I've been with them, I have raised them in your name, which you have given me. I have guarded and protected their reckless little bodies, but especially their reckless hearts, and I pray that not one of them will be lost. Put your joy deep in them. Keep them coming back to the deep well of it.
I have given them your word. Poured over over it with them to unlock a glimpse of you. Waited to see an eagerness for you. The world will hate and ridicule them because they are not of the world-- outsiders, just like like their mom. I'm not asking you to bring them to you yet-- not until you're ready. But, please keep them out of his hands-- the liar who steals and kills joy, hope and life itself. They don't belong to him. They're yours.
Clean them with the truth of your scriptures. Even if it hurts them. Make them ready to meet you. You asked me to accept pain for your sake. Out there in the struggling, messy, wounded world. I did. I will. And I'm sending my kids out there too. I won't hide them away. I'll send them out. For you.
In the time I have left here with them, for their sake, help me slough off clingy sins and fears and other baggage that muddies the glory you could be shining through me for them to see. Clean me up so my kids can see you in me. I'm just their mom, but you are so much better. You are Truth.