Roger is distractingly sitting behind me at the piano singing, and I’m tied down by this archaic black cord that sucks the internet into my computer, so this may just end up as a bunch of words on a page. Totally irrelevant and barely readable.
Consider yourself warned.
Is everyone excited about the snow? I personally think I could live the rest of my life in weather that never drops below 40 degrees, but that’s beside the point. My children were excited to see it starting to stick before they fell asleep. They’ll be up early, searching the house over for snow boots and snow suits – which they won’t find without a fight. Because all of those children sprang from two disorganized sources of life who have never taught them any better. (Half of their boots are in the basement, one quarter of them are on the front porch, one eighth of them are in the living room, and the other eighth probably don’t exist.) But they’ll eventually get bundled up, and go outside to find a good time. (And after they find it, they’ll track half of it all the way from the front door to the other end of the house.)
I was really happy that the snow held off until bedtime. The kids and I made it safely into Hazard and back this morning, and even had kind of a good time. One of my favorite parts was a moment in the grocery section at Wal-Mart where they were all crowding around me asking me what they could get next. They were putting things in my buggy faster than I could cross them off of my list. We’ve never played that game before. It was kind of nice. I also love having a couple of kids who are old enough to responsibly push a buggy for me. I almost felt spoiled, having 2 free hands. It almost made up for the running around, playing tag in the clothing section part of the trip.
My other favorite moment was when I was getting my hair cut this morning. She had my hair combed out pretty straight so she could see what she was doing, and Avery came over and said in the most pitiful voice, “But I thought Daddy liked your curls!” She knows her daddy.
I miss the little-boy-Wesley-days. He was always coming up with something funny for me to write about. I don’t think I believed that he would grow out of it. But… he still comes up with something every once in a while. His normal mealtime prayer is: “God is gracious, God is good, let us thank him for our food….” The whole family is a little tired of it, but we’ve mostly let him say what he wants. Well, a couple of days ago he took me by surprise when Roger asked him to pray. He said, “Dear God, thank you for the food….. (a couple of prayer requests that I’ve forgotten) …pray for Mr. Ben’s supper …. pray that we don’t choke on our supper.”
“Mr. Ben” is a friend of Wesley’s teacher. He’s done some mission work in Ghana and is getting ready to go back, so the class has been praying for him. No, he wasn’t having a fundraising supper that night. Wesley just wanted to bless his meal along with ours. I was telling Wesley’s teacher about his supper-time prayer, and she told me that at lunch her students consistently pray “that Mr. Ben won’t choke on his lunch.” 🙂 I wonder if he has any idea of the prayers that are being lifted up on his behalf… It sounds like there are “two or more gathered” each day in the lunchroom who agree…