He sat alone at the table, palms pressed together like hands praying, shoulders hunched, and chin resting on the tips of his fingers. He stared into space a million galaxies away. Together since kids, bonded in marriage, and hammered in trial, we faced grief like two strangers on a separate road.

In that poignant poise, I saw crevices in the map of his face I’d missed before, blinded by building cataracts of sorrow in my own eyes.

“He’s suffering too,” I thought, and like an opening door, what hid behind came into view.

In my hugging gut-grief, I overlooked the anguish in his. I neglected our oneness.

Equilibrium sought to right itself during the health crisis of our daughter. It’s length and severity wore physically and emotionally. Sadness and uncertainty left us like two drowning people unable to break surface, trying to hold each other, but pulling one another deeper.  In my own quest for survival, I forgot his.

It happens in life’s grind too.

If something touches me it affects him. My joy reaches his heart. My sorrow overflows to him. As surely as my soul aches, his does too.

Sometimes in the unique mommy-bond with our children, we overlook the irreplaceable relationship of our children with their Daddy. The daddy-bond is crucial. In that moment standing at the threshold of my kitchen, I saw it.

I pictured my daughter’s hand within his big calloused hand. I knew the way he melted when a little body wiggled onto his lap. I remembered the way his forehead furrowed when he fixed my son’s bike. I heard his broken prayers for healing what he could not.

A father’s strength protects, supports and puts family first. He looks for solutions and fixes problems. But when he can’t heal, mend or make it better, a dad suffers in ways only a man can.

As I contemplated this, a bit of the gravity and honor of his position dawned on me anew.

I began to look at the hats he wore with new appreciation. An awareness of what and how I needed to pray for him emerged.

My list changes all the time, yet, the core remains. As circumstances evolve, I jot down, cancel out and add new details. It reminds me how much he carries and how important he is to the strength of our family.

Here are six ways I pray for the daddy of my children.

 

1. I pray for his spiritual life.

• A thirst for God’s Word and growth in his walk with Jesus.
• Spiritual protection.
• Sound doctrine.
• Spiritual leadership.
• Spiritual strength and perseverance.

 

2. I pray for his physical life.

• Safety and health.
• Mental and emotional stamina.

 

3. I pray for him as a husband.

• Our marriage.
• That he would love as Christ loved. (Eph.5:25)
• That he would live with me in an understanding way. (1 Peter 3:7)
• Wisdom in decisions.
• That he would remain faithful in thought and action.
• That he would live a life of integrity.

 

4. I pray for him as a father.

• That he would model our Heavenly Father.
• Wise and discerning.
• Discipline consistently with love and authority.

 

5. I pray for him in his work.

6. I pray for his relationships.

 

When crisis stretches taut nerves or busyness tempts self-centeredness, this foundation brings me back to what is most important. Balance regains, and oneness is restored in the posture of prayer.

As wife of my husband and mother of his children, long after the house is quiet, I will still be praying for their daddy.