"Jack, do you want to go to worship?" She is dancing around. "Jack want to go to worship with me?" Janie grabs his hand, yanks it up and down a few times like a water pump. "Jack, worship is when you bow down. Like this." She lets his hand go and prostrates herself flat down on the living room rug. "See, look." None of this silly singing songs for worship, Jane does the plain old bow down to the king kind. After Shadrack, Meshack, Abednego, the firey furnace, old Nebuchadnezzar, suddenly worship is a whole new sport.
We can't hardly start a prayer without Jack blurting out long semi-intelligible phrases asking God to heal Lulu's eye. He's unwavering.
A few weeks ago I was braiding Emma Jane's hair. He held her hand between both of his. I almost didn't notice. He turned her hand over again and again and finally said, "Emma, I like your hands."
I suddenly pictured God holding my hand, turning my hand over and over in His and saying, Susan, I like your hands. That makes me so motivated to do good for my Father and even now it makes me cry because of the care that his words represent. Surely God moreso cherishes the statements of care that we call worship.
ReplyDeleteProstrate on the floor. I'm envisioning all of those nuns and monks spread-eagled, face on the ground, asking to enter a new way of relating to God and people. Recognizing just how big God is. Shivers!
ReplyDeleteJack's praying reminds me of how Isaac was. He would never stop praying for someone until they were well. :) How precious!
ReplyDeleteI just finished "catching up" on your blog since it's been awhile since I checked in on it. You two are amazing, Godly parents as evidenced by your children. :0)
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