Lingering presence

We have a routine for Elyse with bedtime, both girls really, but Elyse's is well established and probably like many other toddler bedtime routines.

Go potty, brush teeth, choose and read 3 books together, pray, lights out, goodnight.

Lately she has asked us to stay a little longer, lie down in the bed with her for "lots of minutes".  We try to grant this request when we can but not make a lingering habit of it.  When I make the time, it has unexpectedly become one of my most favorite times of day.

When I know I'm going to lie down with her, I'll wait until then to pray with her.  I'll ask her what she would like to pray about and I just love her heart.  She will ask me to remind her what we did that day, often she remembers on her own, and she will tell me what she wants to thank Jesus for.  She is so thankful for the daily things, the things I overlook, the things that exist every single day.  Windows, neighbors, blankets, going to the park, our pool.  

Tonight she talked about how the little neighbor boy hurt her feelings when he took a toy from her.  She recalled how she didn't cry but that it made her sad when he did that.  She said he wasn't being a good listener to his mommy.  I took this all in as she hadn't mentioned any of this before and I had never heard her describe her feelings as being hurt.  I wanted to chose my words carefully.

We talked about what leads us to make poor choices but that even though he did, we forgive him for it because we also make bad choices sometimes and we desire forgiveness from others as well.  We don't like what he did, but we still like him.

This small conversation happened in the dark of a twin sized bed with a white noise machine humming in the background.  I was softly tickling her back and she turned on her side to me and said, "I'm sorry I hit you today."  She had hit me in frustration a little before lunch, the situation was quickly handled but a fruitful conversation never occurred at the time.  She proceeded to repeat herself and apologize again.  I told her I forgave her but explained how good it made me feel to hear her say she was sorry.  She gently touched the place on my arm that received the pint sized blow and asked if it hurt anymore.  She felt remorse and concern.  I told her my arm didn't hurt and my heart was so happy.

Maybe she needed her emotions to settle.  Maybe it was our prayer.  Maybe she needed me paused in a tender moment with her.  Maybe she needed to be reminded that we must constantly forgive others, a lesson in humanness.  Maybe in realizing her feelings were hurt today, she realized that she had hurt mine as well.  Maybe it was a little of all of it.

Whatever it was, she got it today.  She didn't seem 2 years old.  She seemed older and wiser than me.  She needed my undivided, unhurried attention.  She needed my presence to linger and so often that's how it is with God.  I can hurry through a quick prayer, meaningful, but quick.  I cover the basics but without lingering in His presence I'm not allowing God to search me and know me, to point out any offensive way in me and lead me in an everlasting way (Psalm 139:23).  

I need to pause.  Lie down with her.  Lie down in His green pastures.  I need to linger more and hurry less.

As I sit and type this I overhear her playing with her baby dolls in her bed.  Hearing her love them, discipline them, talk to them......is often so encouraging to me.  She hears me.  It won't all sink in overnight, but she's listening.  I needed to know that.

I didn't need to know she had secretly reached over the side of her bed and lifted every last one of her dolls into her bed because "they are friends", but that's pretty darn cute too.

I love that kid.