Please, God!

So, in moments of parental distress, I have been known to pray, right before my children. I don't slip away to a quiet place, and I don't necessarily pray with a happy voice... more often a desperate one.

But I pray.

"Please, God. Give me patience right now. I can't do this."

"Please, Lord. Give me wisdom. Now."

"Please, God. Give my children hearts to obey. And kindness toward each other. Please."

"Please, God. Help me."

In part, I hope it teaches them that it's okay to pray at any time, in any place, with any tone in your voice. Because God is at the ready, willing to listen and help. But I also want them to see that I'm not trying to do this on my own, that I'm calling on the Lord to help me every single day, and that I'm counting on his equipping power and partnership.

And also, I just need the help right now, and I can't always escape to a quiet place, and the only way I know how to get it is to ask. Now. Loudly, sometimes.

Well. That brings us to Tucker.

We ate at Chipotle after church on Sunday, and Tucker gulped down his chocolate milk faster than anyone can say Kids' Quesadilla. He really wanted to get up and throw it away, right this very minute, and I really didn't want him to.

Because, I firmly believe, sometimes it's just good for a little boy to wait. On permission, on better timing, on his mother. I really feel strongly about this one.

Suddenly, Tucker threw his head back, rolled his eyes up, threw his arms wide, and prayed. Loudly.

"Please, God! Give Mommy wisdom right now! Help her to trust me to throw this away!"

Right. And God did give me wisdom, and the answer is: Wait until we're finished eating.

But thank you for the grand display, my sweet child. You've been watching.