Or in this case, you say what you know.
We have instituted family prayer time since we’ve been imprisoned cooped up together in this hotel room. Reagan reads and prays for a country out of Operation World (a book that details every country, its demographics and its religious affiliations/struggles, and how we could pray for the country). The rest of us take turns as well saying our own prayers out of our hearts.
We’re also giving Ashlyn a chance to pray. Since she doesn’t quite get the concept of praying for what’s on your heart she prays the only prayer she knows:
Tank u fuh dis day and fuh dis food, hep it to nuwish ow bodies and keep us helfy. Amen.
Is that not the cutest! She is saying our meal-time prayer. I’ll take one Ashlyn please with a side of syrup. It’s so sweet.
No matter what has gone on during the day or how testy she has been during the bedtime routine, this always makes me smile. It’s also a reminder to me, if not a warning, that our children do watch us and listen to us closely. They mimic what they see and hear. The words we speak, the music we listen to, the things we say on the phone, the prayers we utter–all of these are soaked up by little minds that are learning how to be…
And now I must go and remind myself that God does give them individual personalities and that every little rotten thing she does is not in direct correlation to something she has seen me do or say. Like when she’d rather beat up her sister than give her a hug. Or when she’d rather lay down on the ground and scream than walk to the next aisle with me. Ahem. I wonder if I could institute a prayer time during those moments…