The other day Bubby brought me my Bible. I had read something from it that morning, but he must have seen me putting it down, and his curiosity must have made him wonder more about it.
He loves books.
He crawled up next to me, and placed it in my lap, looked up at me and said “Reeead?”
My heart was a puddle. I read to him. Until this moment I had forgotten, that when I was carrying him I would read Psalm 1 to him everyday.
I don’t know when I stopped, or why.
But it made me wonder a lot.
How do you raise your son to love the God you know?
To love him, to want to serve him…
to believe that when your world comes crashing down – there is a God that says to cast your care upon him, because he cares for you?
Does any amount of reading teach him this?
Does any amount of discipline, guidance?
Does any amount of love?
I worry I am not doing enough to share the love of God that my heart has come to know. To think about the love of God makes me tear up, because I can remember the times he has shown me his love, and I didn’t deserve it. How can you not love a God like that?
But does any amount of testimony teach him this love?
But I think to find that answer, I have to ask the question again.
How do I teach him to love the God that has been there for me?
Perhaps it is living this love.
And believing that the word of God does not come back void.
Trusting God, and reciprocating the action God calls us to do, to cast these cares on him.
Placing even my two year old’s heart in the palm of his hand. That one day, he might learn to love and trust this God – more than his mama was ever able to.
And that one day Bubby will be able to witness just how good our God is, and fall in love with him all on his own.
Maybe in reality, it starts with me.
And the Lord direct your hearts into the love of God, and into the patient waiting for Christ. – 2 Thessalonians 3:5