In this week’s Gospel (Luke 18:1-8), Jesus tells his disciples a parable about praying always without weariness.

Using the story of a widow who incessantly nagged a dishonest judge, finally getting the decision she wanted because the judge was sick of her and didn’t want trouble, Jesus points out that if the faithful pray day and night, then God, unlike the bad judge, is eager to hear them and be quick with justice.

Then, Jesus mysteriously asks:

But when the Son of Man comes, will he find faith on earth?

Did Jesus believe the disciples would lose their faith? Or is he asking all of us, across the millennia, something different?

I believe praying without weariness is especially challenging for mothers.

We are often hurried or stopped in the middle of a Hail Mary that we may or may not get back to depending on the seriousness of the interruption. We might fantasize about an upper room of sorts, a place of quiet serenity, where we could do SO much better—if only…

I have more peace now as an empty nester. I pray every single morning for my family, asking for particular graces and protection for my children, grandchildren, my husband and myself. Still, my prayers are often brisk as I am getting ready for work or am driving.

Worse, I might find myself depleted at the end of the day, and my nightly prayer life can be dry, perfunctory, and feel insincere, even to me. I think of the immensely popular American musician Jelly Roll’s song, “Need a Favor”:

I only talk to God when I need a favor

And I only pray when I ain’t got a prayer

So who the hell am I to expect a Savior

If I only talk to God when I need a favor?

But God, I need a favor.

Maybe is it precisely during times of spiritual dryness and crises that we can be nearest to God and implore his intercession—not like the widow or children who needle without ceasing for judgement in their favor (Can I have this million-piece Lego? Can I stay out past curfew?)—but as hopeful mothers who can turn to Jesus in drought or sadness, and know he has gone through the same desert and pain first, just for love of us.

But when the Son of Man comes, will he find faith on earth?

Will Jesus, in his unfailing love for you, find a person who takes his question as an eternal personal challenge, and like the apostles, never give up proclaiming his goodness and mercy?

Will you teach the children entrusted to you his truths, and say in your heart, in every day and every frame of mind: Jesus, I BELIEVE IN YOU?