There is a whole heck of a lot that i don't do right. My kids don't sleep. (With the exception of one,) they don't always obey the first time or the fourth or fifth. They forget to say please. You won't see a lot of parenting advice on this blog and that is because I don't know what I'm doing; I am a mess and parenting only exposes me, keeps me humble and repentant and falling on Jesus, clinging to grace.
But some evenings one or another child will come running to tell me that the sky is pink. She'll take my hand and lead me to the window; shadows, we name the colors.
The sunday school class planted seeds in pots and she is very religious about it. She chose the window and watered daily, until I warned her not to over-water and then she became very serious and very careful about her watering. And the other day there were three green sprouts and today two more and she bows over them, reverent, counting.
I bought them fairy tales. The real ones, not tamed down or disney-fied. Wolves and dragons and child-eating witches. Because "fairy tales are more than true;" Chesterton said, "not because they tell us that dragons exist, but because they tell us that dragons can be beaten." And so in the afternoons she chooses her books and every day she brings me Rumplestiltsken. I don't know what it is that intrigues her, delights her in the trickery and magic, riddles and rescue. But I have a feeling that she already knows the world is crazy and what I want her to believe is that hope is not.
If there is anything I hope to teach my children it is to be amazed. To see the world beyond this world, to be ever looking for it to blaze behind the clouds or emerge from the dirt. I want to teach them that to live is holy work; to be reverent and humble. That God is with us. I hope they will notice, every day, that there is so much beauty in the world.
linking up with Heather today with Just Write.