Prayer for my adult daughter with her health and decisions

[Chrysostom]

When you see your daughter chasing after plans that end in nothing, remember that the wisdom of this world is a wisdom that terminates here and proceeds no further. It seems wise to her, perhaps, to spend and to move and to secure her own way, but when the soul trusts entirely to itself and supposes it needs no help from above, that wisdom becomes foolishness. It cannot profit its possessor. You see this, and your heart cries out because she does not.

Yet do not be afraid for her, hearing of a yoke. The yoke of Christ is easy, and His burden is light. What you desire for her, a change of heart, a return home, a season of healing, is precisely the rest He offers to the weary. Pray that she would stop trusting in her own reasonings and hear the One who says, “Learn of me, for I am meek and lowly in heart.” True healing begins there, not in a new place or a new purchase, but in bending the neck to that gentle Master. The ailments of the body and the wanderings of the will often have one cure: the soul’s return to its God. He heals sometimes by a word, sometimes by stretching forth His hand, sometimes by both, that we might learn the manner of His care. So do not cease to ask Him to stretch forth His hand over your daughter, to speak the word that scatters her foolish counsels, and to bring her home, home to your house, and home to her own heart.

You, meanwhile, cling to the prayer that is heard. You need not make a display. When you are walking, when you are about your work, sing to God in your heart with heedfulness. Even in the marketplace, collect yourself and cry out to Him with no one hearing but Him. Moses said nothing with his lips, yet God said to him, “Why do you cry to me?” The contrite heart is a loud voice in the ears of mercy. Let that be your constant hymn: “Glory to God in the highest,” who makes a way for the worthless to be raised to wealth, who turns enemies into children, who works this wisdom at the proper time, even by means of the Cross. He who rent the veil and opened the tombs is not quenched; He lives. Pray, then, with confidence. And when you see only her stubbornness, recall that His word is sharper than any two-edged sword, piercing to the dividing of soul and spirit, and is a discerner of the thoughts and intents of the heart. That Word can divide her from her errors and lay bare what she herself cannot see.

 

[Silas]

Your heart aches over your daughter’s choices, and that burden does not go unnoticed. The Lord Himself is moved with compassion for the needy, and He sees the tears of a parent longing for a child to turn toward healing rather than deeper isolation. What you are asking for is not merely a change of address or spending habits. Underneath these outward decisions is a deeper need: a change of heart.

Out of the heart flow the real issues of life. Actions can be altered for a time, but unless the heart is transformed, the same patterns will resurface. True repentance is not just a moment of regret or a temporary adjustment; it is a turning of the whole inner person. The call of Scripture is to “rend your heart and not your garments.” So keep praying specifically that God’s Spirit would do that deep, inward work in your daughter, that she would no longer be driven by self-reliance or the desire to manage life on her own terms, but would yield to a new nature, one governed by God rather than by her own understanding.

When Jesus met a mother desperate over her afflicted daughter, He did not answer her immediately. There was silence that tested and deepened her faith. She kept crying out, kept worshiping, until the Lord drew from her heart the very trust He intended to honor. Do not interpret apparent slowness as neglect. Your persistent prayers are a release of faith, a reaching out to touch the hem of His garment on her behalf. He knows the secrets of every heart, and He knows exactly what is happening inside your daughter. There is no hiding from Him.

Lay hold of the truth that God can bring a change as radical as the one Jacob experienced. He moved from a self-governed, grasping life to one marked by reliance on God, and his new name signaled a new character. Pray for a similar transformation in your daughter, that she would stop fleeing into isolation and spending, and instead come to the end of herself, open to the healing that only Christ can give. The Lord sees your tears; they are not wasted. He heard the cries of the weeping prophet and He hears you. Trust Him to work in her heart, and as you wait, let your own heart rest in His presence, confident that He is near and that He is able to do more than you can ask or imagine.