SWEET TART OF A PRAYER

 Speaking of weaving, my mind wandered during Pastor Mark’s last sermon on prayer, to recent conversations with my 5-year old on the same subject.

By way of background, on weekends this summer we have been going to a reading class at North Seattle Community College.  During our walks on campus, he noticed several water fountains, and because water play is right up there with dirt bikes and Legos, of course we got into the habit of visiting the fountains to skip (small) rocks and splash a little before class. 

Spying a few pennies at the bottom, he was naturally curious as to how they got there:

Me:  Some people throw money in water and make wishes.

Son:  Can I do that mommy?

Mom:  (Hesitate)  Um, sure.  Okay.  Just remember, Jesus offers us something super duper better than wishes.  We have a sure hope, and we can pray to Him.  He has way better ears than cement.

Thus ensued a new ritual of throwing in change every week, making a “wish”, and following it up with a prayer right there to Jesus afterwards.  Initially I tried to explain that the gig was you’re not supposed to tell your wish because supposedly it wouldn’t come true, but he’s not one of the dumb ones (nor can he keep a secret), and of course immediately told me right after he threw it in.  The standard prayer became wishing he could ride a 2-wheeler. 

Weeks passed in this ritual.  We added this wish to our bedtime prayers. 

Last week he dug out a fist full of Sweet Tarts from his camoflauge shorts pocket and asked if he could use them to throw in the fountain.  Sure, I said.  Sweet tarts work just as good as money in the big picture.

Son:  Can I make 3 wishes?

(Hmmm.  Branching out.  This would be interesting.)

Mom:  Absolutely.

Son:  I pray that I could ride a 2-wheeler. 

Plop goes a green sweet tart.

Son:  I pray that I would be brave.

(Really?  Wow.  That was unexpected.  What about the cap gun you’ve been begging for at the Little Store?  This is good.)

Glub-glub went a yellow candy.

Son:  And I pray that I wouldn’t be mean to Jack anymore.

(Okay.  My heart stopped.  I was leaking a little). 

Doink went the last blue circle.

Crouched down on our heels, we silently watched them melt.  After which, I hugged him tightly, looked him in the eye and told him how proud I was, and tried to squeeze every drop out of the teachable moment.  Thank you for that, Jesus.  We were late for class.

As Pastor Mark likened prayer to our Heavenly Father as being a similar relationship between the requests of children to parents, I was immediately brought to ponder the beauty, simplicity and integrity of my son’s Sweet Tart prayers.  Indeed, they reflected joy and purity in and through me.  It was easy to imagine this being the way with our prayers to God.

I really liked that of all the things a little boy could have asked for, he chose nothing material.  It caused me later to look up Jesus’ words in Matthew 6, where he says do not worry about what you will eat or what you will drink or what you will wear.  But seek ye first the Kingdom, and all these things will be added unto you.  I realized that I have been worrying about these pagan things.

His ritual prayer to ride a 2-wheeler was a prayer that I am convinced, Lord willing, he will master in time.  So it is that perhaps many of our prayers are confidently “so” in the realms of heaven, but as Pastor reminded us, the answer in the economy of earth’s time is often “wait” for now.  Just as I can absolutely envision him on 2 wheels, the Master of the Universe, who has perfect vision and is not bound by time, absolutely sees us through Christ as being more than a conqueror in many of our current monstrous situations.   

“Christ Jesus…is at the right hand of God and is also interceding for us…No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us.”  (Romans 8, selected). 

Wow.  Jesus prays for me!  Like Brer Rabbit stuck in the Tar Baby, I have been stuck in unbelief, not trusting Jesus for the end result of being more than a conqueror like He promised.

This son has always been reticent, especially with new things.  Recognizing this quality in himself has been frustrating.  My definition to him of brave is “being afraid, and doing it anyway.”  Practicing those things we believe he can do.  His Sunday School teacher, Adelle, has been teaching the class that they are “imago dei,” or made in the image of God, and somewhere deep down, I think little boys recognize this imprint, and sense bravery as an essential character.  Yes, he will need to practice being brave as a young man, and draw on this quality many times over in life.  I want to be brave too, Lord.  Very brave for Jesus’ sake.  Finally, the least common denominator of my son’s prayer “to be nice to [his brother] Jack”, was a simple form of repentance, recognizing the human tendency to sin towards others.  How often do we neglect simple acknowledgements of this?  I could think of at least one sin, one error of commission or omission, with pretty much every single person in my world.  I want to be better ~ like You, Lord:  Quicker to the cross and violent in my exhibitions of unsolicited Grace.

Amen.