Skip to main content

"Saddest Part of the Day and Best Part of the Day"




Wes and I had just finished looking at one of our Christian placemats about creation.  We talked about the week of creation and all that God accomplished on each of those days. We ended our discussion on day 6 and 7 where he made Adam and Eve and then rested.

After that, I decided to ask him one of our ritual dinner questions about the saddest part of his day and the best part of the day. It went a little something like this:

Me: Wes, what was the saddest part or your day today?

Wes: Mmmmm, I think when the teacher told me I had to put down the wood chips on the playground.

Me: Yes that would be sad. What was the best part of your day?

Wes: I think recess!

Me: That's a good one.

Wes: What was your saddest part of the day mom?

Me: When I was coughing this morning when I woke up. I don’t like feeling sick.

Wes: Ya… what was the best part of your day?

Me: I cleaned out a big closet at the church today and I think that was the best part of my day.

For the next few minutes, Wesley didn't say anything. We both sat there in silence as we ate. He was quietly eating and thinking, and I was quietly eating and thinking. Then, having sat and thought for a while, he turned to me and said: 

Wes: You know what mom?

Me: What?

Wes: I bet I know what Eve’s saddest part of the day was!

Me: You do? (Anxiously awaiting)

Wes: Yep, when she ate that apple!!!

Me: I think you’re right bud! I bet that was the saddest part of her day.

Wes: And do you know the best part of her day?

Me: What?

Wes: Playing in that garden!

Me: You know Wes, I think you’re getting it. That’s pretty good theology my man.

Meditate - to spend time in quiet thought for religious purposes or relaxation. (as defined by Merriam – Webster Dictionary)

Psalm 19:14 Let the words of my mouth and the MEDITATION OF MY HEART be pleasing in your sight, Oh Lord, my Rock and my Redeemer. (as defined by God himself)

I know Wes is only 3 and I know this might seem like a silly, little story to some, but not to me. The meditation of a 3 year old looks different than the meditation of a 30 year old. I believe God finds it pleasing in His sight to see that children, even at the young age of 3 are meditating on His truths. 

Let all of our children’s hearts and minds continue to meditate on the characters and principles laid out in God’s Holy Word. Amen. 

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Divorce and the Land of Israel

(If you are here, the very first thing I want you to read is this: Writing about a divorce can be sticky. I would never want to hurt B in any way. So, please know this post is about the divorce, not about B.)     Rejection.   In the past, I’d had friends hurt my feelings. I was dumped in college. There were jobs I wasn’t offered. There were times I wasn’t invited. But that was pretty much it. The rejection I had felt in my life was, what I would consider, typical.   When I found out B had filed for divorce, I was devastated. Normal, right? I think so. I was intensely sad and cried every day. This too, did not surprise me. In fact, during those first few months, I didn’t fight it. When the sobbing began, I would stop what I was doing so I could heave it out until that episode was over. I also expected the standard emotions that sadness brings with it; disappointment, depression, grief. I wept through each of these and these sorrowful emotions became increasingly better wit
1 comment
Read more

God, and our rental home.

I was still living in the home that once held our family of five.  Rooms were now completely empty, the living room bare and our bedroom was...well...void.  B and his kids had left. I would collapse at the smallest emotional trigger, a "train-wreck" as some people commonly refer to it. I shed tears daily, sometimes hourly. The failure of my marriage felt catastrophic.  Spiritual questions loomed in my mind. Could I hear the Lord? Where was he in all of this? Wasn't he here...somewhere? It didn't feel like it. And if he was, I certainly couldn't hear him. I'd been taking steps one-at-a-time for a couple months, but on one particular day, I was told I had to find a new place to live too. I was crushed. Taking the first steps were hard, but having to leave our home, this home we'd bought together, lived in together, made memories in together...the permanence of this step was overwhelming.  I could barely think straight.  In fact, all I really knew was that I
Post a Comment
Read more

They've been disarmed.

“Eric held him down until the police could get the gun out of his hand.” My friend, Beth, told me this story about her husband, a firefighter who helped wrestle a person to the ground during an emergency call yesterday.    This troubled man reached and successfully grabbed an officer’s gun from her belt, but was immediately subdued when four people, including Eric, pounced upon him. They restrained him until they had retrieved the gun and could carefully stand up again.    The culprit was disarmed.   Everyone was safe.   I love a story of valor.   Just a day before, I’d been reading through Colossians and came to chapter 2, verse 15, “He disarmed the rulers and authorities and put them to open shame, triumphing over them…”   My eyes veered back to “disarmed.” The Holy Spirit seemed to be highlighting that word in my heart, giving it an intense weight. I studied it. Originating in the late 14th century, it meant to “deprive of power to injure or terrify, render harmless.” Unable to caus
Post a Comment
Read more