It was time to make more of an effort

What mother of young children has time to pray?

Not I, not when my children were small! I was a pushover for a bleating infant or a toddler’s tantrums. And mornings were such a rush: get everyone out to school, get myself to work. When was I supposed to daven?

On top of it, I was a baalas teshuvah, and even though I’d learned to pray, I was convinced (probably rightly so) that I was far slower than the women who’d davened every morning of their Bais Yaakov careers. And I was idealistic enough to think prayer should be concentrated on rather than mumbled at the speed of light.

I ferreted out the most lenient opinion — which said a woman is only required to recite a full Shema every day — and stuck to that (it was a Sephardic opinion, so don’t try it without asking your own LOR).

But when my kids got big and self-sufficient, I ran out of excuses. Life was still busy — work, phone calls, grandchildren. But it was time to make more of an effort. I started davening in the mornings and found it satisfying. It focused my mind on Hashem, and my priorities in life.