Tuesdays this month have been pretty unforgettable. Today, it's sub-sub-sub freezing cold. Even penguins would be donning sweaters. Last Tuesday, Snow saw an opening in the sky over Nebraska and began to blanket everything in sight.
But the Tuesday before that -- the very first day of December -- pushed the mercury all the way up to the 60's.
So i took the opportunity to do something i'm not good at, something that i don't crave tackling but desperately needed to be done before they were lost .... the task of "planting" iris bulbs my mom had just given me from her yard to grace my backyard. (using the word "planted" loosely. and the word "grace" even looser. spring will tell.)
And God prompted me to do a second thing i'm not good at, neither do i crave, but needed to be done before she was lost: Talk. To my 3-year old. I love my daughter, but if given the choice to talk or just bask in the quiet (and in this case, the 60-degree December day), i'd have just kept my mouth closed.
So my daughter and i were digging and chopping away at the dirt --- chopping, because it was dirt that had been haphazardly thrown under the overhang of our house in clumps and had also been frozen and thawed at least once.
Chopping, because i couldn't find my trowel and was using my daughter's pink plastic gardening tool from Target.
We were about halfway done, enjoying the warm sun without our coats on, when it dawned on me that this could be a teaching moment for my little girl who's becoming more and more enlightened about heaven and sin and Jesus and what He can do in our lives.
But we really hadn't been talking much. We were off in our own worlds. And i was getting tired from all the chopping -- i mean, digging gently -- and thought, "I just don't want to talk."
Then God said, "You're going to have to start."
Yikes. Okay.
So as my daughter returned with another bulb (aka, giant root) for me to plant, we were faced with this view:
At the risk of her 3-year old mind thinking our hearts are filled with dirt, i started the conversation by talking about how hard the dirt was and how our hearts can become hard, too. And how Jesus can take all the hardness away and make our hearts soft.
Then we just began to talk to Jesus, and for once, her parroting skills came into good use as she began to copy what i was saying ...
"Jesus, please make my heart soft ... Please take all the hard spots out.... Help me to obey and have a soft heart ... And listen to You ...."
And her favorite phrase, uttered in that sweet little lisping voice ....
"I love you, Jesus." .... "Thank-You, Jesus...."
She's been sending more prayers His way lately.
Last Monday: "God, could you please send more snow?" hmmmm....
Yesterday in the bathroom: "God, could you please help Hippo not to be scared of going potty and poopy?" (in deep voice, she responded: "Okay. Let's go to the living room." Then told me she was going to the living room with Jesus.)
Perhaps i should have her talk with God about those iris bulbs we "planted" .......
