Hope for Moms of Prodigals: What Psalm 86 and an Olive Tree Taught Me

Inspired by Psalm 86 and "Hymn of Heaven" by Phil Wickham

Last summer, I planted two olive trees. As fall approached, I brought them inside and cared for them faithfully through the winter. When spring arrived, I returned both to the patio, ready for warm sunshine and new growth.

But something unexpected happened—one tree thrived, full of life and new leaves. The other was completely lifeless.

How could this be? Both trees had the same soil, sunlight, water, and care. Yet their outcomes were completely different.

And isn’t that the same question so many Christian parents ask?

How can children raised in the same home, under the same values, make such different choices? How can two siblings who went to the same church, the same youth group, and sang the same worship songs end up on such different spiritual paths?

How can one child walk closely with the Lord while the other walks away?

If you're the parent of a prodigal, these questions are painfully familiar. You may carry a silent ache, wondering where things went wrong. Shame tries to creep in. You relive past decisions, searching for answers that never seem to come.

As a mother of a spiritual wanderer, I’ve found only one true place of peace—God’s Word.

When our children come to the end of themselves, when the world no longer satisfies, I believe they’ll remember the God they once knew. They’ll turn back to the God you still serve.

Psalm 86 has been a comfort to me in this season. In it, David cries out for mercy and rescue. And tucked into that prayer is a verse that brings me to tears:

“Save me, because I serve You—just as my mother did.”(Psalm 86:16, NLT paraphrased)

Mama, you have not failed.

You may not have seen the harvest yet, but the seeds you planted are still there. They are buried deep in the soil of your child’s heart, and they will grow—in God’s perfect timing.

So keep loving. Keep praying. Keep trusting God with the outcome.

The song Hymn of Heaven by Phil Wickham captures this hope beautifully:

“And every prayer we prayed in desperationThe songs of faith we sang through doubt and fearIn the end, we’ll see that it was worth itWhen He returns to wipe away our tears”

How I long to fast-forward in time and see the fruit of our prayers. But until then, I hold onto the promise.

My favorite part of the song paints a powerful picture:

“And on that day, we join the resurrectionAnd stand beside the heroes of the faithWith one voice, a thousand generationsSing, 'Worthy is the Lamb who was slain’”

When I think of the heroes of the faith, I don’t first picture Peter or Paul—I see the moms. The ones on their knees, praying for their prodigals. The ones who never gave up, even when the waiting hurt.

When I sing this song, I picture an army of praying mothers. We glance at one another and smile through tears, ready to mount our horses and return with Jesus. Our hearts are full, because our prayers were powerful—and our children made it.