Coffee Mugs & Quiet Times

I was about six seconds in to this morning's (attempt at a) Quiet Time when Freddie saw what I was doing. Before I could blink, there he stood at the kitchen table, saying, "I want to read my Bible, too."

Who am I to say no to THAT?

This has been happening more and more lately - in fact, it's pretty much guaranteed that, if the boys see me reading the Bible, they're gonna want to pull out their own (for some reason, Jones didn't come today; heathen). I've even bought them little monogrammed coffee mugs, because, like I drink coffee while I read, they want a mug of milk, which is exactly how I used to drink my milk, too.

At first, this interruption drove me crazy. I felt like the quality of MY Quiet Time was TANKING, as the entire ordeal inevitably snowballed into me begging the boys to be quiet before finally giving in and reading some variation of the Creation account.

Here recently, though, God has been changing my heart. He's showing me that this is the BEST habit I can teach them, and I should be SO GRATEFUL that they are picking it up. After all, "I have no greater joy than knowing my children walk in Truth," right?

RIGHT.

God's also showing me that He doesn't require the hour a day I used to be able to spend just with Him. He can speak just as loudly through three minute (re-)readings of the Creation account.

Turns out, that's a REALLY good thing.

Singing "Jesus"

Mom kept the boys yesterday, as they napped, and I met some friends for lunch. When I got home, she told me that she'd gone upstairs to check on them pretty soon after putting them down, and when she got within earshot of the room they're sharing now (because they REALLY want to share a room), she heard them both singing at the top of their lungs the song they call "Jesus" but that I grew up knowing as "Something About that Name" (by Bill and Gloria Gaither).

No matter what you call it, it's a lifelong favorite of mine and has been at the top of both Jones' and Freddie's lists for as long as they could sing along. I am so grateful that she got this on video - AND that, when they're all alone in a pitch black room, they're singing about JESUS.

Back to Back Visits to Canton First

It kind of breaks my heart when I have something to post - the story of our very busy Christmas season, for instance - and never get around to it until three weeks later when I really can't remember many of the details that I'd wanted to capture.

So much history, lost.

Maybe that's the double-edged sword of easy and/or instant access to pictures and posts. It gives us the illusion that we can bottle up our babies' childhoods to wistfully uncork long after they've gone on to bottle up the childhoods of their own babies. But the reality is that we in the Information Age are just as likely to slack off the chronicling as any other parent in history whose second child never had a baby book.  No offense, Mom.

Anyway.

The nite after the Living Nativity, we went to the Children's Christmas Program at Canton First. Jones sat in the sanctuary with us, while Mike and Donna Wood kept Freddie in the nursery. Jones did a GREAT job. He sat quietly and attentively and didn't even make a scene when his buddy Lila (Thomason) was on stage.  I couldn't have been more proud.

Then came the reception after the program.

As he did last year, Santa Claus visited the kids to congratulate them on a job well done and, apparently, to scare the you-know-what out of our boy Jones. Deja vu all over again. He reacted exactly the same way last Christmas.

For HIS part, Freddie wasn't afraid, per se; he was definitely aware,
however, that he was being held by a stranger. With a super-long beard.

But since there were no tears, and since he didn't manage to pull Santa's beard ENTIRELY off, I'm considering HIS visit a success.  Way to go, Baby Boy!

The next nite, we were back at church for the Community Children's Christmas Party. Because it was three weeks ago (ugh), I only remember two things about it: 1) we had a ham dinner with corn, green beans, and rolls, and both boys ate me under the table. 2) Jones kept taking anyone who'd follow him to the hard plastic Nativity to point out Baby Jesus. In fact, every time he hears the word "Jesus," he says, "Ba-bee," which is good, since Jesus CAME as a "Ba-bee" at Christmas, but I'm afraid Jones is in for a rude awakening when Easter comes, and he finds out that Jesus grew into a man.

We'll deal with that when the time comes.

For now, suffice it to say that he won the hearts of many at the party by leading them, like a certain star, across the "desert" of the fellowship hall into the presence of the Reason for the Season. "Jones, where's Baby Jesus?" they'd ask, and he'd take their hands and lead them to Him. It was precious and made me VERY proud, though I'm not quite sure why, as I had absolutely nothing to do with it.

Oh. He's also gotten really not kissing things - Freddie's forehead, for instance, his favorite car toy, the hard plastic Baby Jesus in the church fellowship hall. I pray Jones and Freddie both are always so enamored with their Savior - the One Who came as a "Ba-bee" at Christmas.