Pay, Mama, Dada, Pay

I hate it when people let blogs lay silent for weeks. And, I'm guilty as charged. Long vacation, attending/presenting at a conference, first weeks of school, planning an event for 2100 college freshmen, blah, blah, blah. It's been a busy month or so.

That said, I return with what I think is a cute, fun, heart-warming, and encouraging story about my son.

Simon is talking more and more these days, even stringing three or four words together at times. Lately, when we sit down to dinner, he almost always stretches out his hands and reaches for Laurie on his left and me on his right and says, "Pay, mama, dada, pay." Which, of course, means "pray." We usually have to do this 2-3 times during the course of the meal. So, we say the Lord's prayer, a prayer for friends and family, and a prayer of thankfulness. Even at such a young age, it's clear that something special, desirable, and good comes through in taking the time to "do prayer." And, it's striking that what he picks up on is the ACT of prayer: the hands, the quiet, the stillness, the "Amen" at the end (which he emphatically shouts as "ah-MEEEN!).

In many aspects of life, the process or the act of doing is often as powerful as the language.