I don't always take advantage of these moments. In fact, I am often too tired or frustrated and have had it "up to HERE!" at this point of the day and I am all to happy to switch off lights, close the doors on my children's darkened room, and collapse on the couch. Or even the floor. The amount of talking that happens in a house full of 3 little girls is incomprehensible at times and at the end of the day I am ready for a break from all the talking (which comes in many forms - whining, tattling, arguing, complaining, shouting, giggling, singing, sharing, complimenting, expressing... you get the idea). But the other night, I took those few minutes with my 2 oldest girls and made the most of it.
Isabel was ironically refusing to speak to anyone at the moment - the long day had gotten the best of her and after a series of unfortunate events that sent her to bed a bit early she was curled up under her blankets shutting out the world. So of course I just invited myself in. I snuggled in next to her, and started a conversation. Being the chatty little thing that she is, she couldn't resist the temptation for long and reluctantly joined in. I don't remember what we were talking about, but she had shared some frustration and I encouraged her to pray, telling her that after a long day and before a new long day ahead, it's a perfect time to spend a few moments talking to her Heavenly Father. To which she responded, "I don't know how!" I resisted the urge to lecture her on the countless times we have discussed prayer and prayed together, and the obvious fact that she prays frequently herself. We often talk as a family about how we can talk to God like He is right here with us, because He is. And that our prayers don't need to be fancy or formal, it's just us having a conversation with Jesus. But that night I talked to her about the types of things we can include in our prayers. I encouraged her to thank God, to present her requests, to confess and ask forgiveness for her sins, and finally to praise God. She asked how to do the last part - to praise God. So I suggested to do it together, taking turns. I started out by saying something that was true about God, like God You are holy, then she responded with another word. At some point Sofi joined us and there we all were, snuggled up on that tiny bed, praising God together. This was not an elaborate and planned lesson on prayer. It wasn't a regularly scheduled family Bible study. It was just us, taking a moment, making the most of an opportunity, giving the glory back to the God who created all the moments before and every one yet to come.
Isabel was the last one to name a truth about God and she said "You are merciful." It was like the icing on the cake, because I knew that day she needed to experience and appreciate God's mercy. Just a few hours earlier, she had run into her sister (accidentally or on purpose was the much heated debate) and it had sent her into a tailspin. After some tears and poorly controlled anger, I pulled her aside and asked her why she was so upset. The incident wasn't the end of the world, everyone had moved past it, and yet here she was, jaw clenched, fist tight, head bowed. She wouldn't speak it out loud, and I insisted that I'm her mom, so she has to talk to me (this ploy still works... for now) so she wrote the words instead. And here is what she wrote:
"I HATE making mistakes."
Mistakes - proof of our imperfection, tools that we use to remind ourselves that we're not _______ enough. Smart enough, calm enough, thoughtful enough, strong enough, old enough, experienced enough.... good enough. I watch helplessly at times as Satan uses my daughter's mistakes to convince her that she's not good enough, and no amount of preaching and teaching on my part can defend her little heart from the weight of her mistakes. Which incidentally, are few and far between. No child is perfect, and mine are no exception, but Isabel is truly a good girl. She has a heart full of compassion and hands that are quick to serve, but oh how she strives to be perfect. The truth is that I can't heal the wounds caused by her mistakes and the guilt she feels because of them, but God can. So laying there in the quiet darkness of her room, the truth that God is merciful was just the truth she needed to speak, to accept, to experience. Because mercy doesn't just cover her mistakes, it obliterates them. It makes them as worthless and powerless as the lies spoken by the one who reminds her of them over and over again. Praise God, for He is merciful.
What do you know to be true about God? Take a moment to speak those truths, praising God for who He is and not just what He has done. If you have children, praise God together, snuggle under the covers and make the most of those little moments before they're gone.
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