Wednesday, June 15, 2011

Can I pray for Jesus?

Last Sunday, while I was preparing dinner, Max spoke loud from across the room with a unique question. One I had never thought of. Often he brings up questions that pierce my soul and this question genuinely did.
“Is it okay for me to pray for Jesus? Because, I prayed for Jesus today, and I also asked him to forgive me.”
I pulled my hands out of the soapy water, dried them, and walked out of the kitchen over to the computer desk.
“What did Jesus need to forgive you for?”
Max turned towards me, looked up with a half smile and one side of his mouth drawn up.
“For all the stuff I have done wrong in this life. He will forgive me, and answer my prayers.”
Max focused on the computer screen and spoke with a firm voice.
“Praying is important.”

How many of us have the same perspective as Max?
How many of us value prayer?
How many of us pray for Jesus?

As I walked into the kitchen, I thought of Max and my conversation. How blessed I have been to be given a son, who has taught me patience, love, and sacrifice. Peace filled my heart as I played back the words spoken from Max.

Years of Max running out onto the main highway…darting out the front door…throwing his shoes at me while I drove down the freeway…waking me up several times during the night.
As I look back on those trials, I begin to see how blessed I have been with a loving son who has taught me what mattered most …a relationship with our Heavenly Father.
Yes, I plan to pray for Jesus.

Wednesday, June 1, 2011

Utters and Breast...

I, Trent and Max took our Bichon Frise for a walk. Max’s hand held tight to the red leash that Pennie was connected to. After we had gone about three blocks Max started in on some questions and I tried to hold back from laughing.
“Mom does Pennie have utters?
“Kind of…they are called breast.”
“Oh what are they for?”
“To give puppies milk.”
“Do you have breast?”
We stopped at a corner and waited for a lady walking her German shepherd walk by. “Yes, I do?”
“Oh what are they for?”
“They are to feed babies when they are little.”
“Oh just like cows give us milk.”

Silence filled the air and Max kept walking as if he owned the world with Pennie by his side. Once we started heading back home, Max asked two more questions, but I can’t remember one of them, but the one I can remember is.
“Mom are we Mammals?”
“Yes, Max we are mammals.”
As we crossed the road Max spoke loud due to noise car that had just passed by. “What are mammals?”
I told him and he seemed please with my answer.