Monthly Archives: March 2012

More God?

Aiden and MommyIt was, as usual, a busy morning. In an attempt to get ahead of the game, I woke up early to have a bit of quiet time and then fit in a smidgen of work before waking my daughter for school. My two boys were both home with me, so after getting her off to school, I read them some Bible stories and then we did “school.”

Aiden was very happy with a new science activity book and we did page after page until midday—every project executed from the position of my lap. He didn’t even want me to get up to make chai. By lunchtime, I was starting to get antsy, thinking of everything I needed to get done within the next ten or so hours before the moment I collapsed into bed, too tired to even fall asleep.

After lunch, my son asked, “Mommy, come sleep a’ me?” Interpretation, he wanted me to lie down with him until he fell asleep for his nap. Okay, he was up early, I thought to myself. He should fall asleep pretty quickly.

I said a short prayer with him before his nap. Then he started quoting a verse that we often say after prayer time at night. I said it with him and then he looked up at me expectantly and said, “More God?”

I didn’t understand him at first and asked him to repeat himself. “More God,” he repeated.

“More verses?” I attempted an interpretation.

“Yes,” he answered confidently. I started quoting the Lord’s prayer and he said it with me.

He then repeated the other verse in his two-year-old lingo: “Words of my mouth and tation o’ my heart, cept’ a my sight, Lord, my strength and my adeemer.”

It took a little while, but he finally fell asleep. His words played again in my mind though.

More God.

As parents, we always have more than enough to do, bouncing from parental duties to work to projects to cleaning and back again, hoping to make some kind of lasting difference while we’re at it.

We try to teach our kids about God, about prayer, but it’s often on our timetable. There are those times, though, when our kids’ hearts are open and their mind hungry.

“More God,” they are asking.

Maybe not in those exact words. Maybe they express it in a question, sometimes even a complaint.

What they need in response is the same thing we, as busy adults, also need: “More God.”

More time with Him, learning of His Heavenly ways. More time sitting at His feet, partaking of His nature, imbibing peace, joy, love.

It is that one thing that can’t be taken away, no matter how busy or trying a day.


The Best “Thank You”…

…Is Always Expressed by a Child.

Card from a Child

For the Eyes of a Child

leafless winter treesThe winter day dawned gray and cold. The wind only added a chill to the cheerless landscape.

I needed to feed the birds in the patio birdcages and give them fresh water, a task I hoped to accomplish as quickly as possible, so that I could retreat into the comfort of the warm house.

My son Aiden had other thoughts. He followed me, babbling away about the birds, the garden—which I thought looked rather forlorn sleeping under its cloak of winter grey.

“Swing, Mommy?” My two-year-old looked at me with anticipation.

“It’s cold, Aiden. Mommy wants to go inside.”

Either he didn’t hear me or he didn’t take that as a “no”. He meandered toward the swing seat situated against the backyard fence. I followed him, pulling my sweater more tightly around me.

As I sat down, he clambered on top of my lap and sat in silence. At least his presence served as a natural heater. He was so quite that I thought for a moment that he was going to fall asleep.

“Mommy,” he suddenly broke the silence, “the trees giving loves.”

I wasn’t sure what he meant. I looked at the trees from the porch swing where we were sitting. I didn’t notice anything spectacular. Most of them stood starkly, lacking leaves and color.

I followed his gaze to two palm trees, growing beyond our house, reaching high toward the sky. Their green fronds contrasted the drab sky. They flittered, almost like fingers waving cheerfully down to us.

palm trees against a winter sky“Who are they giving love to?” I asked him.

“Everybodies,” was the instant response.

Where I had seen nothing but a cold and lifeless day, my son had looked up and found life … and love.

Oh, for the eyes of a child.