I pray for you often.
But today, I pray you had a good day.
I hope you’re journaling,
pen to paper,
so one day you can catch me up
on all the moments I’ve missed.

Sometimes I picture myself fixing your plate first,
serving you not just food
but life.
Pouring into you until you overflow.
My words, sweet as honey,
never sharpened into weapons
unless we’re diving deep,
where intimacy makes language its own art.

I pray your heart is not hard.
That you know you are loved.
That you know you are seen.
I know being a man isn’t easy,
yet you carry the weight so well.
Still, I want you to feel protected
as you hold the name protector,
led by the Father’s hand.

I pray your faith is steady.
That when life breaks you down
you rise again, standing tall.
And oh,
I cannot wait to see you
face to face,
eye to eye,
lip to lip.
Something is missing without you here.

Future husband,
I pray you cherish me.
That you see the weight I’ve carried
and let me set it down.
That you look past the hats I wear
mother, wife, warrior
and still see the woman underneath.

I pray you listen,
not just to the words I speak
but to the silences that shape them.
That you learn my body’s language
like second nature.
That you never see my past as burden,
but testimony,
proof of survival,
a story that makes me, me.

So tonight, I pray you rest well.
I pray you come soon.