Tonight, tucking the boys in bed, “Let’s pray,” initiates faces to pillows and hands folded for one child followed by, “God. Thank you for the ability to throw a baseball. And thank you that I have a brother to play with.” And the mom gives thanks in her heart for the joy of hearing her son remembering God who gives him strength and brother.
For the other the que doesn’t trigger the praying posture but a aha-moment look on his face and, “I know! I’ve got a good one! Thank you God that every day there’s always something to learn.” Impressed by the 6 year old boys thinking I commented, “That is a good one son!” And gave thanks for the pure pleasure of hearing thoughtful thanksgiving from my almost 7 year old Christmas gift.
I get weary of the things. The toys. The latest gadgets and goodies and attempts at making our kids “happy” that are everywhere. I’ll take words of thanks rolled off little lips to a Great Redeemer who once walked through age 6 and 8 for them.
No greater joy. Period.