Sunday, June 12, 2011

Evening Prayers

Right now my wonderful husband is reading to the girls and saying prayers with them. The girls clamor to get to go first, lifting up the very real concerns of their life. "Dear God, I pray for the boo boo on my leg and the line on my butt I got today when I was in the sun without sunscreen . . . " They pray for friends, for our upcoming car trip and for their stuffed animals. Then Alex prays for Joshua, that he would someday be completely healed.

It's a bittersweet thing to hear that. He's modeling for his little girls a belief in and a hope for miracles. I don't do that. I pray that Josh would use his words more and that he would complete his potty training. When I am alone, I pray for other things that I am desperate for, like that he would stop playing with himself in public places. But I don't pray for a complete healing. I just don't have the faith to even ask for that. But I am touched when other people do.

Hope and Anna are growing up with so many things being "normal". Praying for very real, up close miracles. Watching TV, oblivious while their older brother screams his head off under a big blanket right next to them. To them, their brother is their brother. The only brother that they have ever known. It's so amazing to me how much of their reality is shaped by what goes on in this house, in this household. I hope, with all my heart, that the imperfect love and the mustard seed of faith that we have and that we model to them is enough to give them a good start on a good life.

Saturday, June 4, 2011

Joshua Learning How to Use His Words

What’s that called

when you have no idea

that the person you are talking to

doesn’t know what’s in your head?

Joshua’s ever recurring statement

with no subject,

“I want it”

like everything with this kid

happens over and over again.

“I want it”

“I want it”

“I want some”

Repetition, perseveration


His response to, “Hi Joshua”

is “Hi Joshua”.

But today comes a surprise connection,

like the sun coming out in a constantly cloudy place.

At the end of an eternal effort

my beautiful son

decides to tell me what he wants

using his words.

“I want Barney video.”

I run to turn it on for him.