This morning I was in the living room, kneeling over the couch cushions attempting to stay awake.
I would say I was praying, but I don’t know for certain that what I was doing would be in the classification of prayer.
All of a sudden, I felt a hand on my back.
I knew that Charity was not in the room with me. And I didn’t hear any footsteps coming down the hallway.
I stayed still. I let a few seconds pass, and I said, “Uh, Jesus?”
I saw a tiny face peek around my left shoulder. “Dada!”
I looked around. It was Son #2. “Hey bud, what’re you doing up?”
His words aren’t clear yet. “Dada, imak ihasd haiw lumaje.” The pacifier wasn’t helping.
“Uh-huh.” I pulled him close to me. “Do you want to pray, too?”
He knelt beside me and bowed his head. It’s so sweet to hear a one-and-a-half-year-old say “Jesus.” Jesus and Amen were the only words I could understand.
He’s been sick the past few days. A couple of days ago, he was letting loose all over his bedsheets. He’s had a fever and required a lot of snuggling. He might have been asking God to help him feel better.
There were a lot of jumbled mumbles and words I had never heard before. I was thankful I didn’t have to answer the prayer.
I don’t have a clue what he said, but I know Jesus understood.
And that’s all that matters.
to anyone who can’t find the words to say,
– Caleb
caneymountainblog.com 