Of Simple Prayers and Complex Dreams
My “not quite two year old” has started to pray. It started at mealtimes and goes something like this; “Jesus...Supper...AMEN!!!” It’s the same prayer at Breakfast and Lunch, and while we have tried to distinguish between meals (mostly by offering her something OTHER than Cheerios at meals outside of Breakfast), she hasn’t quite expanded her repertoire. Lately, she has wanted to offer her prayers during evening devotion time. At first she started with (you guessed it) “Jesus...Supper...AMEN!!!” but her prayers have become slightly more sophisticated as she interchanges the word “Supper,” with the names of people she loves. Mostly Grandma...although we try to get her to branch out so that our other loved ones get equal air time.
There’s nothing else in the world that compares to hearing your child pray. Unless, of course, it’s hearing the heavenly sounds of silence coming from their room during naptime...but I digress. You see, long before the birth of my firstborn I had dreams for my children. Big dreams. The usual dreams parents’ have for their children. You know the ones...that they would embarrass me only slightly, always choose the cheapest item on the menu, and not scrimp on my nursing home digs. I’m kidding. Seriously though, I did and still do have one very lofty dream for my children. That they would know and love Jesus best. That’s it. Outside of that, they can make a fool of me day in and day out, eat steak and lobster every time we go out(which-believe me-is not often) and make me live in their basement in my old age...but I LONG for them to cherish their relationship with their Maker.
And so it is that tonight as I listened to my little girl pray for her very good friend Colten, my heart cried out to God - for Him to hear this simple prayer. And to keep listening for her...because if I have anything to do with it(and the scary thing is...I know I do), she’ll be camped out on His welcome mat for the rest of her life...praying for more than just Supper.
There’s nothing else in the world that compares to hearing your child pray. Unless, of course, it’s hearing the heavenly sounds of silence coming from their room during naptime...but I digress. You see, long before the birth of my firstborn I had dreams for my children. Big dreams. The usual dreams parents’ have for their children. You know the ones...that they would embarrass me only slightly, always choose the cheapest item on the menu, and not scrimp on my nursing home digs. I’m kidding. Seriously though, I did and still do have one very lofty dream for my children. That they would know and love Jesus best. That’s it. Outside of that, they can make a fool of me day in and day out, eat steak and lobster every time we go out(which-believe me-is not often) and make me live in their basement in my old age...but I LONG for them to cherish their relationship with their Maker.
And so it is that tonight as I listened to my little girl pray for her very good friend Colten, my heart cried out to God - for Him to hear this simple prayer. And to keep listening for her...because if I have anything to do with it(and the scary thing is...I know I do), she’ll be camped out on His welcome mat for the rest of her life...praying for more than just Supper.
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