Most nights are pretty predictable at my house.
I get home after the gym. Eat a quick meal while the kids do some last minute running around, screaming and playing hide and seek with their baby brother.
Get the bottles of milk ready for baby David, or Toddler David, I don’t know really it sounds weird. He’s a 40lb 2 yr old wearing 4T…it’s hard to call him a baby…
Then we all head to Sofy’s room to talk about our day and start story time.
Right now, we are reading a children’s version of the Bible which (Lord don’t strike me down for saying this) makes the stories a little less boring and a lot more understandable for the kids.
They interject occasionally and ask questions, sometimes random, so I’m not always sure if they are really paying attention.
Today we were reading about David and Goliath, but Vicky wanted to talk about Adam and Eve and the bad fruit. The whole being “naked” in the garden really blew their minds.
“And then they had sons. And one son, Cain, he killed his brother!” Vicky was really concerned about this. They all were, but they quickly chimed in that they could never do that to each other.
Meanwhile, David is laying back on one of Sofy’s pillows drinking his milk and minding his business.
After we finally get through a story, we share thoughts about what we read and how it can apply to our lives presently.
Then, we take turns each night saying a quick prayer, before everyone heads off to their bed, bunk, crib, and so on.
Each of us prays slightly different, but for the most part we thank God for everything that we have including each other.
Gaby thanks God for family and friends, and video games.
Sofy thanks God for family and friends, our house, books, and her ipad.
And tonight, for example, Vicky thanked God “for our lovely home and socks”, among other things.
So, last Wednesday I went out to dinner with two good friends of mine. I rarely go “out” and even less smack dab in the middle of the week. But sometimes it’s really hard to find time for friends and loved ones, so I made a point of setting aside that night.
Of course by the time I got home, around 10:45pm, they were fast asleep.
Fast forward to the next night, after we read as usual, I started to ask whose turn it was to pray, but quickly remembered.
“Okay guys. I’m gonna pray, since I missed my turn last night.”
“I prayed last night, mom.” Sofy said softly.
I looked over at her surprised, “You did?”
“Yea, you weren’t here. I forgot, but when Gaby and Vicky were asleep, I prayed by myself.”
I gave her a kiss and hugged her tight for a few moments.
I was shocked. Sofia had taken the initiative to pray on her own. Neither I nor her dad had to remind her or ask her to do it.
I felt so much joy in my heart.
She only just turned 10 last month, but suddenly it felt like a real turning point.
So, yea. Most nights are pretty predictable; and I try to stick to a specific routine with the kids.
But I guess some of the best moments are the ones you don’t plan for.
And I just have to add, I’m no religious nut. (Oh boy, here she goes ::reader rolls eyes::)
I believe in God, and I believe in prayer, and I believe in the Bible.
I curse; I get angry; I yell; I can be a BITCH. (Ask my sisters.)
I’m not perfect, and I’m not a fanatic.
But I don’t think I have to be.
You don’t have to be an every Sunday chruch abiding Christian in order to believe in God and the Bible, or have a relationship with Him.
Whether or not there really was a talking serpent; an ark that carried humans and creatures for 40 days and nights through the flooding of earth without them devouring each other; whether Methusala lived to be 969 or not; or whether Jesus was God’s Son or just a REALLY good person.
All of these are debateable points, but I believe. And I think it’s good to believe, and have faith. Anyting can be interpreted hundreds of ways; we are humans, it’s in our nature to doubt and question. And I don’t have a problem with my kids having doubts or questions.
I just want them to believe for themselves.
And honestly, I couldn’t be prouder of my big girl and her growing heart.