10 Nov More Like Children
Emma has a best friend named Noah. They chat unlike other four-year-olds. Real conversations transpire between them with give and take, answers and questions, apologies and forgiveness. Cuteness defined.
Yesterday, Emma and Noah wanted to come inside for a snack after some rigorous outdoor play. I told them they had to first find big sister’s Wikki Stix they had taken out. (What? You don’t know about Wikki Stix? Great, easy, cheap little things to keep kids entertained.) They searched but couldn’t find the stix so they trudged inside with their leaf-covered socks (oops, they forgot to put shoes on and I didn’t notice) and muddy hands in search of chocolate milk. “No way! Back out until you find them!” I said.
I feared they were losing focus when I spied them sitting on the picnic table so I marched out ready to remind them of their quest. But Emma shushed me. Normally, being shushed by a four-year-old doesn’t go over well with me, but she wanted me to be quiet because they were praying. They were taking turns praying (his turn her turn his turn her turn, many times this went on – you can see I had time to go get the camera) that God would help them find the Wikki Stix (or as Noah calls them Sticky Wickies).
Oh, that I would remember to pray so fervently! I usually search for the answers of life until I’m too exhausted to remember to pray for God’s help and strength and wisdom for my journey. Innocence. Trust. Belief. Faith. I need more.
(Oh, we did find them. Inside the house.)