This morning began like every other, with my alarm clock beckoning me from the arms of my beloved at five minutes of four, way before dawn's early light. Just as I had finally fumbled around enough to find that snooze button, there was an unusual occurrence. Kaleb, who is typically a very heavy sleeper, was calling out to me.
Fearing he was sick (usually the only reason he'd awake so early) I forgot all about my desire to snooze and flew into his room.
I found my little man sitting up on his bunk bed, wide eyed and bushy tailed, eager to tell me all about the dream he just had about a super cool fast train. Try as might to convince him that there were still a couple of hours left of good train dreams, my little shadow insisted on staying up to "help" me with my morning routine.
Off we go, downstairs to start the day. I fix my tea and toast, and heat him up some apple juice to go with his toast. Then we snuggle up to the table and open my brand new pink and brown, soft leather bible that was a birthday gift from David last month. The pink satin bookmark is resting on the story of Moses, admonishing the children of Israel for worshipping the golden calf while he was on the mount receiving the ten commandments. This is one of Kaleb's favorite stories (he loves destroying things, so the whole crushing the calf into powder, and throwing the tablets down to break them into pieces really floats his boat) he was enraptured in the scripture. We had a nice chat about sin and consequence, and I was quite pleased with the amount of detail he remembered from the last time we discussed this story.
Alas, the time for rest and prayer was over, and we moved to the basement so mommy could work up a sweat on the treadmill and elliptical machines. Making conversation as I prepared his cartoons and got my sneakers on, I causally stated "It was pretty cool that you got to see what Mommy does in the mornings before you wake up, huh?"
His reply caused a chain of emotions that has greatly impacted my parenting. He smiled simply and said: "Yes, mommy. I want to do the same thing every morning when I'm all grown up!"
My first reaction was to be filled with pride. I really thought I had done something wonderful, having instilled in my son the desire to begin his day with the word of God, and to take care of his body with exercise.
Then reality hit me. That pride turned to embarrassment, then quickly to terror.
For if he wanted imitate the "good" things that he saw me do, what else would he see me do today that he might also want to imitate?
Will I try to bury my frustration at fussy babies this afternoon by sneaking into the pantry and mindlessly stuff my face with junk food, when I should be bowing my head to ask my Lord for strength?
Will he watch as I groan and force a half-hearted smile at Wal*Mart, as the fifth person just today approaches me with a coy grin to remind me to say "my, you've got your hands full", or "better you than me." when I should be using each one of those opportunities to share Christ?
What will happen when I come into my bedroom this morning to put away laundry, and hear the computer calling my name? Will I quickly check my email and respond to what's important, or will I invest way too much time into the posts of my friends on Policewives.org, while the three little lives I should be investing that time in are eagerly awaiting my attention?
They say that if the groundhog sees his Shadow on groundhog day, we will have 6 more weeks of winter. What can happen if a mother sees her little shadows each day? What will happen if I spend my days remembering that there are innocent eyes watching every move I make?
Its well and fine for a young boy to see his mother reading the bible. That's great. However, what is going to really impact his life, what would really make my life worth imitating, is if he can see me living the bible.
I want my children's futures to be full of sonshine. As of today, thanks to my wonderful little Shadow, this verse will have new meaning in my life:
Will I try to bury my frustration at fussy babies this afternoon by sneaking into the pantry and mindlessly stuff my face with junk food, when I should be bowing my head to ask my Lord for strength?
Will he watch as I groan and force a half-hearted smile at Wal*Mart, as the fifth person just today approaches me with a coy grin to remind me to say "my, you've got your hands full", or "better you than me." when I should be using each one of those opportunities to share Christ?
What will happen when I come into my bedroom this morning to put away laundry, and hear the computer calling my name? Will I quickly check my email and respond to what's important, or will I invest way too much time into the posts of my friends on Policewives.org, while the three little lives I should be investing that time in are eagerly awaiting my attention?
They say that if the groundhog sees his Shadow on groundhog day, we will have 6 more weeks of winter. What can happen if a mother sees her little shadows each day? What will happen if I spend my days remembering that there are innocent eyes watching every move I make?
Its well and fine for a young boy to see his mother reading the bible. That's great. However, what is going to really impact his life, what would really make my life worth imitating, is if he can see me living the bible.
I want my children's futures to be full of sonshine. As of today, thanks to my wonderful little Shadow, this verse will have new meaning in my life:
"But be ye doers of the word, and not hearers only, deceiving your own selves... But whoso looketh into the perfect law of liberty, and continueth therein, he being not a forgetful hearer, but a doer of the work, this man shall be blessed in his deed."
James 1:22, 25
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