Nestled on the kitchen shelf with the popcorn and basmati rice.
I am not an exceptional pray-er. Never have been. I wish I could tell you that having children has driven me to my knees more than ever, and in truth it should have, but it hasn't -- or, at least, not to the extent I'd like it to. We pray as a family at bedtime, but that tends to be more simplistic, "thanks for this day" type of stuff.
It's a tricky business, then, to teach one's children something one does not do well themselves. I first saw the idea for a prayer jar on Pinterest, but it wasn't until a friend posted the same idea on my Facebook wall that I decided to follow through. The picture she posted was much, much cuter -- painted terra cotta or something equally crafty -- but I'm all about using what I have in the moment (an old applesauce jar, construction paper, packing tape, a Sharpie, and some leftover colored craft sticks from another failed project). We have sixteen sticks in our jar so far, including:
-grandparents
-great-grandparents
-the three uncles
-cousins
-Mommy, Daddy, and each of the boys
-Sunday school teachers and our pastor
The boys and I use our prayer jar probably three times a week after breakfast, or any time we're not leaving the house in the mornings. Levi asks for it when I forget, so I have some accountability built in! We each pick one stick (though now that Owen knows that Grandpa is a green stick, he chooses him nearly every time), spend some time talking about what we should pray for, and then I pray. Someday, I'll make them pray, too, but I haven't yet. For now, I'm just satisfied that they stay quiet and seem to pay attention.
It's the "talking about what we should pray for" part that has surprised (and blessed) me the most. Both boys know, for example, that Grandpa (my dad) has a problem with ringing in his ears, and so they're quick to tell me that "we should pray that Grandpa's ears don't hurt." From the beginning, if Levi doesn't know what else to say, he suggests prayer that the person chosen "doesn't get sick." (I think his last bout with the stomach flu had a profound impact.)
This morning, Levi picked Silas, and said we should pray "that he is good all the time." I re-worded that into a desire for my youngest boy to grow in godliness, to become a man who loves God above all else. Owen picked my younger brother, and we had a chance to talk about how Uncle Jeff doesn't love Jesus right now, but we could pray for his heart to change. It was an uncommonly serious and special moment around the breakfast table.
I love that they take this seriously. I love that they're thinking about their friends and family members, and learning how we ask God to work in other people's lives. And honestly, I love that my own children are helping me become someone who prays regularly.
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