Nine months pregnant and scheduled to be induced the next day, I prayed all night that my water would break on its own. It didn’t. Instead, I woke up to a flood outside. The water main had broken and water was running down the street. 

My neighbor said, “Wow, next time I need something, I’ll ask you to pray for me. God really listens to you.” 

“No, He doesn’t,” I replied. "It was the wrong water!” 

Was my prayer not specific enough? Now I understand prayers needn’t be perfectly worded to warrant the Almighty’s attention. The Holy Spirit knows our hearts and intercedes for us (Rom. 8:26–27). But sometimes I wonder: Is God listening? What about all my unanswered prayers over the years? Ones that surely, if answered with yes, would bring glory to God?

Yearly, I used to make a cartoonish picture of my kids and select Bible verses to match body parts as a prayer guide. I’d pray for their minds to take all thoughts captive to Christ, for their hands to engage in good works, their feet to walk in paths of righteousness, and so forth. 

When Prayers Go Unanswered

We had a “treasure” box containing symbols of heavenly treasures: Bible story books, index cards of verses and hymns, items for object lessons, prayer requests, and more. My girls’ favorite scripture song was from Gal. 5:22— “Love, joy, and peace, patience kindness, goodness, faith . . . And the fruit of the Spirit is love.”

I prayed with and for my children regularly—for their future spouses, too. I prayed with a mother’s heart around the clock. After all, nobody else wakes up at 3 a.m. to pray for your kid.

My heart’s desire was that my children walk in truth (3 John 4), live as sons and daughters of God (1 John 3:1), know and enjoy the love of the Savior (Eph. 1:18), and seek first the Kingdom of God (Matt 6:33). But twenty-plus years later, some of my kids have either strayed from God, suffered mental health challenges, and/or divorced. What happened to my decades of prayers? Does God care about my children?

Coping with Unanswered Prayer

The common response from people: “The Lord loves your children more than you do.” Then why, in His sovereignty, doesn’t He bring them to the place where they experience Him as their Rock, Bread, Shepherd, Light, and Living Water? 

And how about this verse? “Being confident of this, that he who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus” (Phil 1:6).

Had God not begun a good work in my children’s hearts? I watched them bloom physically, emotionally, intellectually, and spiritually. I saw godly fruit in their lives. It seemed genuine.

If I walk in Truth, if I know Jesus as Rock, Bread, Light, Living Water, and Vine, but my children don’t, how can I truly know joy? As Elizabeth Stone said, having a child is deciding to have your heart go walking around outside your body. Nothing is more vulnerable—or more painful. 

Biblical Echoes of Parental Pain

Perhaps that’s what Moses and Paul felt as they advocated for the Israelites—their children in the faith. In anguish, Paul yearned for the Jews to receive the Messiah, even willing to be cut off from Christ for their sake (Rom. 9:2–3). This echoes Moses’s grief, centuries earlier, when the Israelites worshipped idols. In pleading for God’s forgiveness, he suggests that his own name be removed from the Book of Life (Ex. 32:32).

If Paul and Moses feel such anguish for their spiritual children, how much more so will a parent’s heart ache?

The children of Israel witnessed the Lord’s miraculous power in delivering them from slavery in Egypt, yet they continued to gripe, doubt His care, and worship other gods. My children didn’t witness the exodus, but I believe they experienced the miracle of rebirth through the indwelling Holy Spirit and were delivered from darkness and the slavery of sin.

So what happened? And how can I account for the flood of unanswered prayers, tidal waves of confusion, my pleas crashing against the rock, unheeded? Surely God would be pleased to answer my prayers.

After all, isn’t He a God of reconciliation (Rom. 5:10)? Does He not delight in mercy (Mic. 7:18–19)? Does He not seek after and rejoice in even one little lamb coming to faith (Matt. 18:12–14)? Is He not “The Hound of Heaven” that relentlessly pursues the lost, as in Francis Thompson’s poem?

Apparently, there’s more happening than meets the eye. 

Surrendering Control to God

Prior to offering Isaac as a sacrifice, perhaps the most difficult thing Abraham ever did was pray for King Abimelek’s household, then watch God answer by re-opening wombs of the pagan king’s wife and slaves (Gen. 20). While Sarah had no child yet! Did Abraham and Sarah turn green with envy? Did Abraham ask, “Why, God? What about Sarah?” Why did the Lord seem in no rush to produce the promised heir?

Obviously, the prayer for Abimelek was for Abraham’s sake, not God’s. For while God orchestrates the world’s events and people’s storylines, He’s meeting us inside the rawest part of ourselves. He desires to shape us to trust Him and conform to Christ’s image. To abide with Him—as a branch to the Vine—to lean on Him, as Jesus did on this Earth, even during His most impassioned prayer in Gethsemane.

My prayers for my kids have expanded, much like Abraham’s. Over the past five years, I’ve learned about dozens of adult children who grew up in the church but strayed, some even estranged from their parents. I add each one to my list. My heart aches for fellow mothers who also wonder what went wrong after years of prayerful nurturing.

Perhaps like Abraham, when God answers others’ prayers with a “yes,” I must rejoice without begrudging the Lord for not doing the same for me yet. Easier said than done. 

Clinging to God’s Promises

My own prayers often end up in agitation. Beginning as a genuine outpouring of my heart, they dwindle to whining. Or I envision particular scenarios and implement suggestions for God to act, reminding Him of His missed opportunities. My long list of desires whirls into a frenzy of demands. Hardly an exercise in trust. Hardly the avenue to peace.

So on many mornings (or middle-of-the-night hours), I pray a short prayer for each child, mentally put them in a box, and hand it over to the Lord. You know my desires for my children. I’m trusting you, Lord. Help me overcome my unbelief (Mark 9:24).

I still pray Scripture over my wayward children and ask the Lord to not let His words return to Him void. Psalm 85 pleads for restoration and revival, asking God to put away His anger against His rebellious people. “Restore us again, God our Savior” (v. 4). The conclusion? “The Lord will indeed give what is good, and our land will yield its harvest” (Ps. 85:12).

That harvest is not just barley, wheat, and grapes. It’s the fruit of the Spirit. Hopefully, it’s the fruit in my children as they turn back to Him. But mainly, right now, it’s His fruit growing in me from trusting. 

~ By: *Greta DeVries—a penname

For Further Study:

📖 Read:

• Romans 8:26–27 – What comfort can you find in knowing the Holy Spirit intercedes for you when words fall short?
• Psalm 85 – Read this psalm as a personal prayer for restoration. What verse stands out to you most today?
• Mark 9:24 – Reflect on the honesty of this father’s cry. How can you echo this same prayer in your season of waiting?

💭 Reflect:

• In what ways have you wrestled with God’s silence in your prayers for your children?
• How has your understanding of trust and surrender changed as you continue to lift your child to the Lord?
• Are there areas where you’ve tried to control outcomes instead of abiding in Christ’s presence?

➡️ Journal Prompt: 

• Write a letter to God expressing your deepest hopes and heartbreaks for your children. Don’t filter your words—He already knows. Then write a short prayer of release, entrusting them back to His faithful care.

🙏 Pray:

Lord, You see every tear, every longing, every whispered midnight prayer. I surrender my children to You again today. Grow faith in them—and in me. I trust that You are still writing their story, even when I can’t see what You’re doing. Amen.