No Definitions Aloud

Tucker listened from the top bunk, and Tyler sat in my lap on the floor.  He’s almost too tall for that spot, but I won’t ask him to move out until he’s ready.  It was hard enough on both of us when he became too big for me to carry.

(I’m not reluctant to see them grow and change, but there was something very sweet about the option to scoop him up onto my hip at any time.)

We said our thankfuls and our goodnights.  I prayed for us, knowing they were listening.

“God, thank you for my boys.
Thank you for giving them to me.
Thank you for letting me be their mom.
Let them grow in wisdom – that means, let them make good decisions,
let them grow in stature – that means, let them grow tall,
let them grow in favor among God and men – that means let them be loved.
Thank you for this day and for our family.
Amen.”

Tyler looked at me.

“Mommy.  You don’t have to tell God what those words mean.  He invented them.”

Thanks, kiddo.  I wouldn’t want to patronize God.  It’s just that I knew he wasn’t the only one listening.