Sometimes, Jesus Doesn't Pronounce His "L"s

In case we ever forget…In case we get wrapped up in the commercialization of the holiday.  In case we get consumed by the financial strain we all feel this time of year.  In case we ever feel that we may collapse under the pressures work and family and friends and society in general… In case we feel completely helpless and anxious in the light of the terrorism that our world is suffering…

I’ve got a quick little story for you:

The other day, we were driving home, both kids in the back seat, Dave on the phone, Baker chattering away about whatever skipped the filter (which is, apparently, everything at this age) and Lucibelle gnawing at her pacifier. 

Now, for those of you who have little bitty babies who have not yet reached preschool – school age yet, you might not take heed when you hear other parents warn, “Kids heareverything.”  I didn’t.  

But kids do hear everything.  Everything.  Every.  Thing.  Even when you think they’re not listening.  Even when you think they cannot here you.  Even when you think they are in the other room…watching TV…wearing noise canceling headphones…in someone else’s home…in another state.  Somehow, some way, they hear everything (except if the phrase includes the words clean, brush, homework, or wash…then all bets are off).

Dave’s phone conversation ended, and Baker took a breath from his own, personal, conversation, to pipe up and ask, “Daddy, who do we need to pray for?”

“What are you talking about?” Dave asked.

“You said, on the phone, ‘Well, we will definitely be praying for you all.’ So who do we need to pray for?”

See, I told you they hear everything.  

Dave explained that the person he was talking to has a coworker who is quite “cranky and not very nice” to the other employees.  And that he said that we would pray for the rest of the employees for having to deal with the difficult coworker.

Baker grew quiet, but only for a couple of seconds…if he’s quiet for any longer than that something is wrong or he is asleep… And then he threw in his two cents.

“I think it sounds like we need to pray for the cranky one.”  

Dave and I looked at one another.  We both felt that searing conviction that can only make you pause to say, “Whoah.”  And sometimes, “Ouch.”

Baker continued, “If we pray for them not to be so cranky, then maybe everybody can be happy.”

God sent his son in the form of a newborn baby boy to ultimately grow into a young man and pay the ultimate sacrifice for our sins, so that we could, in turn, be a light for others.  In that moment, I was certain that Jesus, himself, was using my boy as a mouthpiece.  What appeared to be common sense to my 5 year old is far from common practice in human nature.  The Word is clear that not only are we to have faith…meekness and humility…of a child, we are also called to pray for those who we would love to pray for the least, our enemies.  Essentially, we are called to swim upstream, which is, as my son would say, “reawy, reawy hard!”  Interestingly enough, the same kid who cannot yet pronounce his “L”s is the one who’s voice I heard the night God humbled my husband and me and reminded us of our charge as His children.