I Believe

Last night I stood at the stove and J and the boys sat at the kitchen table as we all chatted about our day. Somehow it was brought up that people don't live forever. I clarified that while people don't live forever on earth, we will live forever with God in Heaven when we believe that Jesus loves us and died for us and when we make Jesus the Lord of our life. 

BB has heard the gospel a zillion times, it is regular conversation in our home. But last night, BB responded by saying that he believes that. In the past, if I asked BB he would agree to the gospel, but if I asked him if he wanted to pray and tell God he believed, he would say no or would start acting silly. But last night was different. When I asked BB if he wanted to pray, his response was a joyful surprise. 

BB said, "I know what to pray, I know what to pray," like, I got this guys. J and I said "Okay, go ahead," and in spite of how sweet some of BB's prayers have been lately, I was honestly expecting the Cookie Prayer. The Cookie Prayer is a prayer BB prayed when he was probably 2 1/2: "Dear God, thank you for our friends, and I will give you a cookie." It got a huge laugh the first time, so it became this jokester's go-to prayer, usually said in fast-forward mode with a huge smile, anticipating the reaction. But last night BB didn't pray the Cookie Prayer. Instead, my little boy bowed his head, closed his eyes, and prayed, "Dear God, I believe in Jesus. Amen."

Amen, indeed.

February 16th 2014

What I'm Doing

You know those commercials where the biologist gingerly cleanses the feathers of a penguin after an ocean oil spill? The philanthropist gently massages the syrupy, black toxins out of the innocent animal's feathers as we contemplate how we can reduce our dependence on oil, thus decreasing the incidence of this man-made tragedy.

I'm not doing that exactly, but as I shove the Dream Lites penguin under the faucet in the bathroom sink and attempt to strategically wash away the urine soaked into the stuffing without shorting out the light circuit, this is the image that comes to mind. As SS stands beside me crying "My men-gan! My men-gan!" and I scrub the hand soap into the fabric and lather, rinse, repeat, I contemplate how I can convince SS to keep his diaper on during naptime to avoid such natural disasters. I contemplate how to convince SS to actually nap during naptime. I contemplate why anyone would create a stuffed animal with a tag that reads "Spot Clean Only. Do Not Machine Wash."  I reflect on how I have changed both BB's and SS's sheets today, thanks to SS using both beds as his personal urinal. And I wistfully recall my plans to blog this afternoon.

What I'm Doing Instead of Blogging Today:  philanthropic electronic stuffed animal resuscitation.