The school supplies are stacked in a neat little pile—fresh pencils, crisp folders, and that brand-new pack of crayons still untouched. His outfits are washed, ironed, and hanging like little promises of the year to come.

Where we live, we’re one week away from the first day, and I can already feel the shift. My heart is somewhere between “Jesus…I love my child, but I’m ready for my fridge to get a break” and “Lord, please cover him as he goes back to school.”

In our home, we pray every morning before we even get out of bed. We pray before we go to sleep at night. And every moment in between, I cover him like his life depends on it—because it does.

But lately, I’ve been asking myself: am I doing enough?

How can I go deeper in prayer and cover my son more consistently? More fervently?

When I got married, I was told about the power of a praying wife. And over the years, I’ve seen prayer move mountains in my own life. I know full well the power of prayer—I’ve lived it, I’ve leaned on it, and I’ve watched it shift things only God could.

But now, in this season, I feel God nudging me—not to learn prayer all over again, but to press in. To pray with fresh eyes and a renewed fire. To not just pray for my son, but to saturate every part of his life in prayer—his friendships, his teachers, the classroom he’ll sit in, even the playground and cafeteria that nourishes his soul.

Because prayer isn’t a new assignment—it’s my calling as his mama.
It’s the quiet strength I carry. The unseen covering I place over his life day after day.
And as this new school year begins, I want to lean all the way in.
I want to pray not just in moments of worry, but in moments of peace.
Not just when things go wrong, but to help anchor everything that could go right.

And here’s the truth: Prayer isn’t just something I do—it’s the most powerful thing I can do.

As moms, when we can’t sit next to them in class, we can still cover that desk in prayer.
When we can’t choose their friends, we can still pray for God to surround them with the right ones.
When we can’t hold their hand on the bus or on the playground, our prayers can.

I think about Hannah, who prayed for Samuel before he was even born (1 Samuel 1). Or Eunice, Timothy’s mother, whose quiet, steady faith shaped a boy who would one day become one of Paul’s most trusted partners in spreading the gospel (2 Timothy 1:5).

These women didn’t just wish good things for their children—they prayed them into being.

So what do WE pray for?

It doesn’t have to be complicated. Some days my prayers are long and tearful. Other days they’re whispered between making lunch and finding the missing shoe. Both kinds matter.

Here are a few things I’m praying over my son (and maybe this list will spark yours too):

• His heart – Lord, keep it tender. Make him kind.
• His mind – Guard it from lies. Help him love learning.
• His friendships – Lead him to kids who bring out the best in him, not the worst.
• His teachers – Give them patience and energy for the kids in their care.
• His safety – Surround that school like a shield.

Mama, your prayers change things.

They change the atmosphere around your children. They change how you show up as a mom. And they remind you that even when you can’t be everywhere, God can.

Your prayers don’t have to be perfect. They don’t have to sound like anyone else’s. They just have to be spoken.

Will you join me in prayer for our kiddos this week?

Lord,
Thank You for the gift of my child.
As he steps into a new school year, I place him, and every kid he encounters, in Your hands.
Cover their classrooms with peace, their friendships with kindness,
their teachers with wisdom, and their hearts with Your truth.
When I can’t be there, You are. When I worry, remind me You’re near.
Make me a praying mama, not a panicked one.
In Jesus’ Name, Amen.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo,