At the end of our phone call last night my mom said that she'd keep praying for my little family -- that our needs will be met and that we'll be comfortable.
"I'm praying for you."
That phrase used to irritate and instigate me! It felt like criticism or judgment or just pity.
But my mother prays for me because she loves me. She prays because we live far apart from each other, and likely always will, and prayer is something she can give that will reach us wherever we are. She prays for my life, health and happiness where I am today with no expectation or demands that I bend to fit where she is.