"I have it figured out, Mom." Zay's voice comes from he backseat, still small and sweet and ringing with the beauty of little-boy.
"What's that?" I ask.
"The prayer. The prayer I'll pray when I'm grown."
"Do you want to share?" I ask.
I peer in the rearview mirror. Zay's head dips down. His fingers lace on his lap. "Dear Lord, thank you for this day. Thank you for our home. Thank you that when I was little, I had a good mom and dad and all that stuff."
He's quiet for a moment.
"And thank you for Jesus."
I need to be watching the road but this form of precious pulls me hard. I make a turn and notice that Zay's eyes are open now. He's watching Iowa cornfields blow by.
As I drive, I think about my own life and how my prayers of thanksgiving can often be scant or nonexistent. I think about Isaiah's wide-eyed-child awareness for what I take for granted. I think about how busyness can be a thief - ebbing away the beautiful until there's only stripped-down stress.
I don't say a word out loud.
But in my spirit, as God's child, I think about my son's prayer.
And soundly say Amen.
Enter his gates with thanksgiving and his courts with praise; give thanks to him and praise his name. Psalm 100:4
My favorite part is "and all that stuff." Such a little boy prayer! It's darling, and I'm glad you have it written down for him.
ReplyDeleteDo you live in Iowa? I am in Nebraska. I know a good Midwest gal when I meet one. ;)
Hey Kathy:) Oh, I know...sweetness in the stuff. We're in Illinois now - right on Mississippi. But we lived in Iowa for 10 years and we're back and forth always. Hugs to you Nebraska girl!
ReplyDeleteSo Sweet! Thanks for sharing. I can relate to the feeling you had when your child says something so precious and you just have no words for it... but silence and thankfulness.
ReplyDeleteI can just see this happening, like I was right there with you two. You three, actually.
ReplyDeleteLove his precious faith. Maybe he'll share some with me this week when I go to the Christian Communicators Conference.
xo