Dear Lord, can you please take the wheel? I truly need some divine assistance on my drive this morning. The little one decided that 4:00 a.m. was the perfect time to nurse, and my eyesight is still fuzzy until I get some caffeine into my system.
Speaking of caffeine, could you work your magic to make the Starbucks drive-thru line a bit more manageable? Wouldn’t it be wonderful if there were a special “fast pass” for busy moms, kind of like at amusement parks? Maybe we could zip past those leisurely folks in flip-flops who seem to have all the time in the world.
As the traffic light cycles through red, green, and yellow without so much as a nudge from my car, please remind me to embrace patience. And while you’re at it, could you gently nudge the driver in front of me to put down their phone and focus on the road?
Once I finally pass a distracted driver swerving along while texting or having an animated conversation (arms flailing!), help me bite my tongue. I’ve got little ears in the backseat soaking up every word. Maybe give me a warm, flaky breakfast pastry to keep me quiet, too!
Lord, bless those drivers who stop at a flashing yellow light—clearly, they need some driving lessons. And please look after the construction workers I see every day, standing around with their coffee cups but not making much progress. Grant them the skill to finish their tasks quickly so I can avoid those pesky orange cones.
When I catch sight of what looks like a child behind the wheel of a massive SUV, I ask for a moment of reflection. I was once that young, after all, and I survived the backseat of a station wagon sans seatbelt back in the ’90s. Let’s hope this generation learns from our past mistakes—maybe a 21-year helmet law for teen drivers?
If I find myself doing my makeup in the preschool parking lot or crying after a long day, please shield me from judgment—especially from truckers who should totally understand the struggle of living in a car.
Most importantly, help me arrive home safely at the end of the day, kids in tow, with minimal pleading for fast food—because, let’s be honest, that greasy burger is calling my name!
And when the kids are finally in bed, and I’m gazing lovingly at my partner, ready to ponder the idea of another child, remind me of the time my son nearly turned my head into a piñata with a sippy cup while his sister cheered him on. Goldfish can’t scream for snacks at 3 a.m., and they certainly don’t make messes in car seats!
But just between us, Lord, I’d rather deal with cleaning a little fish poop than a car seat disaster at any hour! Amen.
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In summary, this lighthearted prayer encapsulates the daily struggles and humor of parenting, especially during those hectic commutes. It blends relatable experiences with a touch of prayerful reflection, while also providing valuable resources for those on a similar journey.