Yesterday and today have been rough days. I've been sick, achy, and just plain exhausted. The couch and my Kindle have been my best friends. :) But last night I had to drag myself up to change Josiah's sheets because he had wet the bed early in the morning (a very rare occurrence, thankfully!) and I just remembered I hadn't gotten that done yet, and it must be done before he went to bed.
He sleeps on the bottom bunk now (Julia has her own room!--subject for another post) and I really hate making the bottom bunk. Almost as much as I hate making the top bunk. As I was hurrying along, trying to get through the job so I could get the kids to bed and get back to my couch or bed, I suddenly whacked my head on the frame of the top bunk. Hard. And it was just the last straw. I fell into a puddle of tears on the floor, sobbing my heart out and kicking myself for it inwardly, because I hate it when my kids see me cry.
And my sweet little man who had been playing on the bed while I was making it, immediately pipes up, "Oh, I'm sorry, Mommy!" (As if it was his fault!) I assured him through my tears that it was not his fault, it just really hurt, and he kept asking over and over, "Can I give you kisses, Mommy? Do you want kisses?" as he hugged me and kissed the top of my head. Then, "Mommy, you could ask Jesus to help it feel better!" I was still crying, so I asked him to pray. "What do I say?" Me: "I don't know! Whatever you want!" And he so sweetly snuggled up in my arms and prayed, "Dear Jesus, please help Mommy's head feel better!"
I know I'm biased, but it was honestly one of the most precious things I've ever experienced. I loved seeing how my four year old turned to prayer before I even thought to ask God to help me get control of my emotions. Josiah has such a tender heart and I am so thankful. I pray it will always be so. I pray that God will use that tenderness and compassion somehow to bless others in the future.