Omniscience

I went to Your house today;

It was Mother's Day.

I sat on a pew with my aged mother

and my not-so-aged grandson.

My daughter sat beside me;

Her mind intent on the speaker,

Her eyes intent on her son, not that he noticed.

I'll confess, I didn't hear much that was said,

But I think you would approve of what my spirit felt.

I don't remember the exact words of the prayer,

But I remember a wide-eyed look of innocence

and the feel of a little hand slipping into mine.

It was a day I'll never forget.

You knew it would be, didn't You?

Dear Lord,

There's no use trying to figure out why that snake bit my grandson. Already I've heard a thousand reasons...each one the authority on it. Those who couldn't think of a reason, put it on You.

I just want to thank you for getting him well, for keeping him from being too sick. We could tell it was a bad one from the marks on his arms and all that swelling. He said to thank you for him, too. Right now, he thinks he may never swim in Strong River again. At first, his mama wanted to drain it dry and kill every snake there, but that's because she was scared and worried. She knows now there was a reason.

There's always a reason.

I don't know what it was.

I just know it tendered my heart towards him a little more.

It tendered my heart towards You, too.

Dear Lord

I know how Mary must have felt when she held her baby in her arms for the first time, knowing one day she would have to give him up to the world.

Even knowledge of a divine purpose didn't stop her heartache, nor Yours.

Now the same old world that destroyed her child is trying to destroy mine.

If there's a special lesson to be learned from all this pain, Lord, please help me hurry up and learn it.

Lord… are you up yet?

I tried to call several times last night, but your line was busy. You must have been talking to that new mother down the street... the one with all those kids... and I certainly didn't want to interrupt. Remember when mine were growing up and I'd call all the time... and about the silliest things, too. Seems all I did was worry about those youngsters of mine.

I felt everything they did wrong was somehow my fault. Maybe if I had given them time to learn on their own and not been so quick to judge; but I was afraid to let up, Lord, and I thought it all depended on me.

I know you were trying to tell me better, just like I was trying to tell them.

Well, that's why I called, Lord, to thank you again... and if there's anything You need me to do... Oh... that new mother down the street...

Why, of course I will! Anyway, one of the little ones reminds me of my youngest... the one whose goldfish died after she put lotion on its eyes and we stayed up all night crying...

I told You about that...remember?

Dear Lord,

When she was just a baby

And got pinched fingers and hurt,

I hurt.

When she got older

And experienced hurt feelings,

I hurt.

Then when she grew up

And out of my arms and into the world,

And hurt for all the things she couldn't have;

I hurt because I had to refuse her.

Even when she chose to go against my wishes

And eventually got hurt,

I hurt all the more.

At times I feel myself growing cold and distant,

Immune to hurt.

Don't let me do this, Lord,

For as long as I hurt,

I care.

Lord…

I feel like such a failure with my children.

They look to me for guidance

and find a floundering, insecure child instead.

Sometimes I feel they're the adult

and I the child.

Help me to remember that all knowledge comes from you,

that parents are but representatives of your wisdom and love,

that we are all your children

in different stages of learning and growth.

Remind me that I am to be

what I want them to become...

And thank you for listening to me with such patience,

as I should be showing mine.