She was so adorable there, in her chair scooted up so close to the table. Plate of food before her, smile wide. And she closed her hands and opened her words to pray:
"Thank you, Loyd, for the pizza...umm, and pizza...and..." Pauses to look at me. Holding up a breadstick she asks, "Mommy, what's this?"
"A breadstick," I smile.
"Umm, okay..." Closes her eyes once more. "And thank You, Loyd, for breadstick. Amen."
And my mommy heart swelled. Not with pride but joy that she's learning, too. Learning to name them- each and all- all the things she is thankful for. Because if we can name them, instead of blanket-like pray thanks for everything, we can learn to name the ways God is faithful, trustworthy, gracious, generous, sovereign, good. If she can hear me spill thanks instead of complaints, gratitude instead of selfish attitude, maybe then she'll believe me when I say I love the Lord I spill thanks to.
Because doesn't our attitude toward someone show how we truly feel about them?
How will she believe I feel towards God if all she hears is me complaining about what He's provided?
But how will she believe I feel towards God is she catches me spilling over thanks.
Thanks.
And if my words spill thanks perhaps my heart does to?
Thank You...
For a 2 year-old who names thanks
for pizza
and breadsticks
and the husband who brought them
and a night the oven (and momma) got to rest
for Christmas lights
and the true meaning of Christmas
for hard situations that bring light to your soft heart for me
for a friend who loves me who I can call for opinions and advice
for date night
and Nana
and Your love for me that stretches farther than I ever will know
