Friday, March 24, 2006

How do you answer a question like this?

Night before last, DH was out of town. This means DD gets to sleep with me. So, as we lay down to go to sleep, I remind her to say her prayers. She says that she knows exactly what she wants to pray for.

I can imagine many things she would pray to Jesus about. A horse. Granny Carroll. Her best friends, Madison, Harley or Lauren. T-ball practice. Butterflies. Chocolate chip cookies.

But that night she said "I want Jesus to come and let me see Him. Wight here in the room."

Now there were MANY things that ran through my mind to ask and say about this prayer request. But I opted to ask her what she would do if Jesus did come see her.

"I would run up and hug Him!"

(duh!) "What would you say to Him?" I ask.

"I love you."

"What would He say to you?"

"I don't know. 'I love you too,' maybe"

"What do you think Jesus looks like?"

"He's tall and his skin is dark. His hair is bwack and He has a biiiiig smile."

"Is His hair long or short?"


"It sounds like Jesus might look a little like your daddy."

"Yeah, a wittle. But diffwent too."

So, still not knowing exactly how to handle this, I tell DD that I too will pray that God will give her what she is asking for. I also tell her that God promises to let us see Him one day when we get to heaven and that she just might have to wait until then.

Waiting is not a finely tuned skill of this 5 year-old. (Or this mommy.)

So, we drift off to sleep pretty quickly. Physical exhaustion will do that sometimes.

The next morning, I wake up hoping she had the most beautiful, peaceful, loving dream of Jesus in the bedroom with us and all the things she talked about.

When I finally wrestle her awake by taking off her pj's and putting on her clothes for the day, she doesn't mention anything about it. We go about our routine. Breakfast with Playhouse Disney. Brushing our teeth. Putting on shoes. Putting hair into pigtails. Feeding the kitten. Amazingly, fussing and arguing was minimal that day.

We are in the car, half-way to her preschool, before she mentions her prayer.

"Mommy, I didn't see Jesus this morning."

"You didn't? Neither did I. What about your dreams? Did you dream about Him?" (please, please let her have dreamed about Him)

"No. I didn't have any dreams."

"I don't remember my dreams either. hmmmm"

"Mommy, do you think Jesus is too busy for me?"

(whimpers, shrieks, prayers for help all scramble to be my first response. but I manage...)"Oh, baby. Jesus is never too busy for you or anyone else. He can do everything all at once. And your prayer was very important to Him. He heard it, I promise."


"And He promises that we will see Him in heaven one day. We might have to wait, but when we get there, it will be soooooo wonderful!"

"Mommy, I said 'ooooookaaaaaayyyyyyyyy'!"

So, did I pass that test, Lord?

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