Again with the prayer

A friend and I have been having some meaningful conversations about praying with our children.  Or, more specifically, our children praying.  I am going to share some thoughts on that here.

While I usually opt to let my girls use their own words to describe the desires of their heart when they pray, I do have to correct them from time to time.

I will interrupt them when the prayer sounds more like a nursery rhyme.

Jesus sat on a wall.  And then He fell.

When they pray selfishly, I correct them afterwards.  I try to direct them to the attributes of God.  I figure if they know more about who God is then they will approach Him in prayer more appropriately.

Dear God, Please let me best friend A come over tomorrow.  And let there be tons of new legos for me.

They are always watching me, so I try to model good behavior and prayers.  As such, I have had plenty of opportunities to teach them about prayer and God.

Recently I was having a very stressful morning, and at the first stop sign on the way to school, I prayed to God to show me His presence.

But, MOM, you are praying in the car!

It was good for me to show them that it doesn’t matter where we pray because our Mighty God is everywhere.

Back to the nighttime prayer, I have been able to witness how my girls understand the world.  I asked them if they wanted me to pray that evening or if they wanted to do it themselves.  To which I was told:

Only small girls pray.  The brown and yellow ones.

For a while, I’ve known that Chickadee can’t tell the difference between brown and black.  Well, she does see the difference but she always switches them up.  I think it has to do with the fact that her black sister has brown skin.  I also think that she has also been told a few times by an embarrassed mom that we don’t draw attention to the skin color of people in public.  (Chickadee can be very loud.)  So I think she was describing her sister and herself by their hair colors.  (Yes, Wren’s hair is black, but remember she gets the two colors confused.)

But I got the point.  They wanted to pray by themselves.

What a blessing.

Dear God.  And Jesus.

Oh, maybe we’re getting the point!  I thought to myself.

Please don’t fall off that wall.

Nevermind.

The end.

A Prayer for Outer Space

A dear aunt gave Wren a book about outer space for Christmas.  Rather than continuing opening the rest of her presents, Wren paused to “read” this new book about her favorite topic.

She carefully reviewed each page before turning to the next.  When she closed the book, she pronounced, “There’s no Pluto in this book.”

I was startled by this observation that I had to check the book myself.  She was absolutely correct.  Poor Pluto!

Now that Wren is five, her interest in outer space has only grown.  Last night her daddy found her kneeling beside her bed.

“I’m just praying,” she told him.

He inquired if he could pray with her.

“No, I’m just praying for outer space,” she replied before concluding the rest of her prayer in whispers.  “… and let me go to outer space.  The end.”