We're coming off Pixar week on Disney, so naturally, when Coop ran shrieking from the bathroom with his undies around his ankles about a bug chasing him, I joined right in acting loony tunes, pretending to be like a bug on Bug's Life.
How was I to know it was a real life scorpion?!
I went ninja bat crazy on that little double-pinchered booger and sent him right up to bug heaven.
Coop cried and asked me why I had to squish him. Then he asked me why I used Daddy's shoe instead of my shoe.
Guess he came in after Chris and Coop played in the leaves? I don't care where he came from, all I know is that I got stung by one when I was about 8, so he sent me into a hissyfit real quick. No body messes with my pistol britches.
I grew up in a teeny tiny Methodist church. Like all good Methodists, we had communion every first Sunday of the month.
12 Stone doesn't so much roll that way, so when we walked in this Sunday and saw the wine and bread baskets, my little old school heart filled with joy.
We are wrapping up a series called iPray. It hit me this past week that my prayers are kinda wimpy. I'm good at praying for God's amazing grace and mercy to wash over us when things fall apart. I'm a pro at praying for mercy in the midst of chaos. I whisper prayers daily for him to make us strong when we are weak and to make us graceful when things don't go the way we had planned.
As PK talked, it hit me that maybe God wants me to grow a pair and pray boldly, knowing that He is God.
In our journey of trying to add to our family, I've never once directly asked God for a baby. Isn't that ridiculous? I've cried. I've paced. I've rambled. I've bargained. But what I haven't done, is ask Him for the desires of my heart.
How can we go to God so ballsy? So direct? When Chris was fighting the good fight, I prayed for grace. I prayed for him to be strong. I prayed for "God's will". I prayed for his hair to stay put. I prayed for his pain to ease and for his soul to heal. What I wanted to do was to scream out and pray for him to be washed clean and for God to take the cancer away. But for whatever reason, I struggled so much with that.
It's on my heart that maybe God wants to be the God who provides rather than always being the God who calms us in the storm.
It feels strange. Really strange. But I'm going to do it. I'm going to go boldly and knock persistently, and know that His Grace is washing over us no matter what His answer may be.