Here I am laying on the floor in my son's room, taking a moment to blog a bit and try and catch up on my thoughts. Kyle is sick today with a stomach flu of sorts. He called me at work just before noon, saying that his tummy hurt and he thought he might throw up. When this child says that he might throw up, he's usually right and I need to hurry. I did, and he was. Let's just say it's a good thing that I came home when I did.
I remember being sick as a child, I always wanted my mom or dad with me. I knew that sometimes there was nothing they could do to make me feel better, but I found comfort in having them near. So that's what I'm doing...camping out with him in his room. I'm not actually on the floor, tho. For the past couple of weeks he's had an extra twin mattress on his floor because his older brother Nick has been sleeping in his room with him. Nick makes a point of saying that it's Kyle who wants him there, but I think Nick has been wanting it just as much. They used to share a room with bunkbeds and I think they honestly miss it. So do I. I love having them in the same room for bedtime talks, and just knowing that they are bringing comfort and security to eachother.
And today I get to do the same for my boy...for a little while longer. When he calls out to me for comfort, and crawls up next to me on this makeshift bed, he lets me hold him close and stroke his hair and whisper in his ear that it will be alright. It is precious and I cherish that I get to do this for a little while longer...knowing that these days will all too soon be gone and I will miss them desperately.
This summer I realized something about my faith. It is very basic and obvious, so much so that I'm embarassed to even talk about it. But since saying something embarassing about myself rarely stops me from sharing, I will procede...
I need to read the bible.
It's foundational to our faith and our relationship with God, but for some reason I've always had difficulty reading the bible with any consistency. How dumb is that?? I think the problem has been that I've always been somewhat overwhelmed and confused about what to read, and how. Should I start from Genesis and read the whole thing front to back? Should I pick a topic and skip around from verse to verse? Should I just close my eyes, open it and read whatever page I land on? I have tried all of these methods over the years, and God has blessed me through what I have read. But this summer I began to realize that I need something more.
So, I decided that I wanted to read one book at a time, beginning with the books in the New Testiment that were written by those who actually knew Jesus in person...those who walked with Him, talked with Him, and lived with Him.
What must that have been like? I can hardly imagine.
Almost every morning for the past couple of months, I have been waking up, grabbing my bible, and having my quiet time with God before my feet even touch the carpet. And I have to say it has been the best thing ever. I started with the gospel of John...my favorite. John is all about the love and writes with emotion and passion. Then I read 1 & 2 Peter, 1,2 & 3 John, Jude (he's so neglected) and now I'm in James.
Did you know that James and Jude were Jesus' brothers? How is it that I never knew this? Wow. I wonder what they thought of Him growing up. I wonder if they were jealous. How could Jesus not have been the favorite child? He never sinned, hello! No smart mouth, no back talk, no picking on his brothers or making excuses for why he didn't get the lawn mowed, or blaming things on "not me". I wonder if Jesus' brothers hated him sometimes, the same way that Joseph's brothers hated him? When I get to Heaven, one of the first people I want to talk to is Mary, Jesus' mother. I want to know what it was like raising all those boys, one of whom was the Son of God! And what happened to her husband, Joseph? How long was she a single mother? Oh, the questions I have.
Poor Kyle is just miserable. The precious time of cuddling and comforting my son has turned into "enough already!" He's been whining and crying off and on for the past 4 hours and nothing I do seems to help at all and we are both more than ready for this to be done. Sigh. Come quickly, Lord! In the mean time, I'll continue to sit here with him, playing his favorite songs on my laptop, accompanying him to the bathroom for the good-grief-teenth time, and comforting him...for a little while longer. As long as he'll let me.