Prayers and Friends

Sophia and I have been having lots of talks with Jesus as night when she goes to bed. Neither of us make requests of him or anything, as that's a complicated view of prayer, even for an adult. However, apparently she made the connection in her mind at some point that if we thank Jesus for our friends, he is somehow responsible for their presence in our lives.

Here's the setup: Sophia spent all morning outside playing with her cousins and our neighbor Timothy, who is about six weeks older than Sophia. She really loves that kid. They are on the same imaginative plane and can enter one another's worlds seamlessly. Anyway, when it was time for him to go, Sophia lost it...yes, again. However, this time, she pretty much took care of her grief on her own.

She went upstairs to her room, where I heard her crying and say, "Lulu, what will I do with Timothy?!" More crying and talking to Lulu, then this.... "Jesus, please! I love Timothy! Please bring him back. Amen." I'm serious. That's what she said. I would not make that up.

When she came downstairs, I asked her if talking to Jesus about it helped her feel better. "No, I think I'll just watch some TV."

National Day of Prayer

I have noticed today that many conservative Christians are upset by President Obama's decision not to hold a public National Day of Prayer event.

I am just interested if anyone here has thoughts about that particular situation. Is your opinion affected by Jesus' instructions in Matthew: 5 "And when you pray, do not be like the hypocrites, for they love to pray standing in the synagogues and on the street corners to be seen by men. I tell you the truth, they have received their reward in full. 6 But when you pray, go into your room, close the door and pray to your Father, who is unseen. Then your Father, who sees what is done in secret, will reward you."

I find it refreshing to see a leader who views his faith as something personal and chooses not to exploit it for political purposes. He could have scored some points today, but he chose integrity. That's my opinion.

Good Grief

Earlier in this blog, in a post or comments that I'm too lazy to search for, I believe it was alluded to that our culture does not spend enough time actually talking about grief. Or death. Or pain. We let the artists take care of that. We shed a few unexplained tears at an emotional, even if poorly written, movie - and feel better. A book or song that holds no obvious emotion for us, gives us the excuse to let the waters flow, if only for a moment.

I am going to make an argument that we (humanity) do our best living when we are grieving. Not just loss of life, but of comfort, innocence, understanding, friendship, opportunity. The human experience is full of choices, paths taken and others not taken. Each choice we make leaves a whole path of opportunity that we must grieve. Of course there are many things that happen in life, which were not a product of choice, and those leave empty spaces that can only be filled with the tears of true grief. Now, I'm not the type that wants to live in a pit of blackness, reliving each misery or mistake of my own or others. I don't find satisfaction in dwelling on the losses of life, but it's my opinion that by actually grieving our losses, we give them far less power in our present and future.

All of that precedes my saying that I am grieving, and I am going to share it with you. This is a risk on my part. I hate leaving myself open to being pitied. Please don't do that, and if you do, keep it to yourself. I want to use my grief as a starting place for our conversation. I am not an expert on grief, although I (like each of us) have had many losses. I am not asserting that my loss deserves more attention than any other. On the contrary, my tendency is to remind myself of those who suffered infinitely greater loss than I and seem to endure with a tender spirit. That is true, and it's not the point either. I simply want to talk about grief. What better way than to walk you through some of my own process.

That's all for today, but I do want to set a few ground rules. Obviously, I want this to be a conversation, so please comment if you have something to say about grief. Please do not comment if you feel the compulsion to tell me that you're sorry for my loss. I know you are, and I appreciate it. That's not the point. So in the next days or weeks or whatever it takes, I'll share with you some writings and thoughts and random ways that I process. Enjoy. Or don't. Either way, you'll need to grieve the path you didn't take. ;)

Playing and Praying

When Erick gets home in the evening, we have a pretty enjoyable routine. We eat some supper (at home if we're behaving), then we do some sort of family activity. A lot of times, Sophia chooses this time of day to play in her playroom. It isn't a room that we spend a lot of time in during the day for some reason. I suppose it's because I'm cooking or cleaning, and she still doesn't really want to be by herself that much. Anyway, that's what we do.

Here is Sophia cuddling with her daddy and pretending to sleep.

A blur playing with a big pink ball.
We play, then Sophia watches five minutes of TV while she gets her pulmicort breathing treatment. Since she had been having so much trouble sleeping last week, we started praying together as a family just before Erick takes her upstairs. It seemed to help a couple of nights, and then she just really seemed to enjoy it. After one particularly difficult day last week, she and Erick were talking before bed. He asked what her favorite part of the day was and gave her a few options. She replied, "My favorite part was when Mommy prayed with us."

I feel very grateful for those moments as they are the glue that keeps my sanity partially intact. So we have been praying together every night, and every night she just opens her eyes and has this incredibly sweet and happy smile on her face. Honestly, if I needed convincing that there is a god and that he is a caring and relational being, that look would push me over the edge. During that brief encounter, I don't speak any differently than I do throughout the day. Erick and I even squeeze her in family hugs several times a night, so it's not our proximity, either. I just think it must be that some place inside of our little girl is awakened and soothed in that conversation with her Abba, while her Mommy and Daddy look on.