Monday, June 8, 2015

Watchful unto Prayer

Kevin has known how to pray for months now. The trouble is, she has put up a big fight about saying any prayer, even with our help. She refuses at breakfast, lunch, dinner, family prayer, personal prayer, famoween prayer--you name it, she doesn't want to say it.

I haven't pressed the issue. I feel like the desire to pray is as much a part of prayer as the words you say, and I want her to know real prayer, not just the rotary. So, we've taken the approach of giving her opportunities, and having her help us, telling her she is an example and needs to help us teach Sly, and just talking to her about when and where she can prayer (always and anywhere) and what she can pray about. If she says she doesn't want to say it, we very rarely make her say it.

I don't know when exactly prayer clicked in her mind and became her sincere desire. Maybe it was last night, when she heard her cousins say prayers on their own in front of the whole extended Fowler family. Maybe she had a lesson in nursery about praying. Maybe she saw me kneel down in the private of my room to break my fast and saw her father do the same, on his own, a few minutes later. Maybe it was a lot of little, quiet moments throughout the past year when she has seen and heard me say prayers at all times of the day, when I didn't even know she was listening or watching.

Last week, she hit three firsts in one 24-hour-period (and I hope she will forgive me, someday, the slight embarrassment of divulging what these three firsts were): sleeping in underwear for the first time, clogging the toilet for the first time, and saying a prayer on her own for the very first time. She was so proud of herself, and my heart was so full, it needed a bit of plunging in addition to the toilet.

Since then, she has said about one prayer a day on her own, sometimes needing help and sometimes not. Even with this recent progress, she blew me away today, when she said every.single.prayer on her own.

It started with breakfast. She asked me if she could say it and I told her of course. And for three full minutes, she talked to "Henly Fader."  And it wasn't just her usual "thank you for da day"--she asked Him to be present throughout our whole day--from asking for Daddy to be good at work to Sly smiling for his nine-month pictures to the bike ride we were going to take for famoween.

Lunch was a similar repeat, with extra blessings on Mom and Sly. Then she said the prayer for dinner, and thanked Heavenly Fader that Daddy could come home from work and we could be together. And then her prayer for family home evening, thanking Him for the bike ride and that we could have famoween and a testimony (the word she uses to describe our lessons) and Mom could make a treat.

After we finished reading the scriptures and Dad said he was going to say the family prayer before she went up to bed, she asked to say it instead. Who were we to stop her? She went on for five or six minutes. She got so involved in her conversation with Heavenly Fader, saying His name multiple times, that sometimes we would have to remind her with a word or a phrase to get her back on track. She blessed Mommy and Graham twice, forgot about Daddy (she'd later told us she prayed for him at breakfast, so it was okay), asked to be good for bedtime, and then.

And then she ended in the most tender way:
"And Henly Fader? I love Jesus. Amen."

Over the past few weeks, I have noticed more and more that she is paying attention. I hear words from my mouth come out of hers as she interacts with her brother and her baby dolls. I hear her asking to do the things I do. Today, as we were coloring, she opened a notebook and asked me if she could write in her journal, which is something she sees me do on a regular basis. She asks me to read her books and an hour later I come into the room to find her repeating similar words to whichever doll is settled squarely on her lap, as she points out part of the picture. She even tried putting her brother to bed today by giving him a binky and leaving the room. From her play makeup, to her projects, to her fake phone calls, all she wants is to do what I do. All day long.

I was flattered, and humbled, then, when I realized that of all the things that she knows are important to me, this is one that is truly important to her, too. And not just in a casual, repetitive way. In a way that she knows He hears her. She knows he will listen to anything she has to say. She knows He will help her whenever she needs Him to.

She knows because she watches.
And she knows I know, too.

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