"guys...get up here" "now" "no..you can't shower first" "I'm serious...get up here" "yes, you have to come" "who wants to say the prayer?" "Anyone...anyone?"
The 15 year old is sitting in a orange leather armchair with his body sprawled everywhere. He's staring at the ceiling wondering how many years he has until he is officially out of the house. The younger teenager drapes his skinny body over half the couch and refuses to move when his adoring younger brother starts crying because there's no room to sit by him. The six year old continues screaming to the point where you worry the neighbors will hear. You sternly tell the 13 year old to sit up so his brother can, for pete sake, sit by him. He rolls his eyes and then rolls his body onto the floor. If he can't use up half the couch...he won't use it at all. The ten year old kneels and is actually ready to pray. Phew. 1 out of 5. The baby refuses to say the prayer. That's fine. I'll pray. I start my prayer. About 10 seconds into the prayer, the baby shrieks at a deafening tone akin to the six year old. I open my eyes.
"I want to say it...I want to say it," she screams. I continue with my prayer that no one can hear over the screeching siren of the three year old. . I can't decide whether to stop my prayer and let her say it (I become an enabler) or keep saying a prayer that no one can hear. I always choose the former. I'm an enabler. It takes a minute for her to calm down and catch her breath. She prays.
So one may ask...why do you keep this practice going? I'll tell you why. It has changed my heart and it has changed my life. You see, those family prayers have been a source of revelation. The Lord has worked through my children, to let me know the things I need to hear. The things I would never know they felt. Or feared. Or hoped for. Over the last fifteen years, I have heard these prayers uttered by my children...who really are God's children. They just happen to be on loan to us for a brief amount of time.
"please help the sick kids at dad's work to not be sick anymore," "thank you for my Spiderman costume," "thank you for our cozy home," "please help no one to be mean to me at school," "please help mom's back to be better so she can run again," "thank you for dad's job so we can eat food," "please help me to not be scared at school," "please help the poor people to be less poor," "thank you for our cars that work," "please help dad to come home soon," " thank you for the new shirt mom bought me," "please help us to find the remote control," "please help us never go from the good side to the dark side," and I've even heard the sacred uttered words, "please help us so we can all live together forever."
And so we keep praying. Not perfectly. Not because I want to. But because we need to. A child's prayer is a sacred song. So as long as they will sing, I will be there listening.
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