Sammy's prayers

From the day I found out I was actually pregnant, I prayed for Sammy... all day, all night. After having one miscarriage 5 years earlier and not since then, I was terrified that I would lose this baby, too. I mean, we always knew it would have to totally be of God if it was going to happen, as we were having no success in our attempts, and the doctor all but told me I was an idiot for not trying at the right time (which, by the way, is really hard to calculate if things don't happen at the same time every month, if you know what I mean). So you would think that, after the initial, overwhelming shock of finding out I was actually pregnant had worn off, that I would have been able to rest in the peace of knowing that this pregnancy was being overseen by the Great Overseer, that the One Who made this hope a reality would see it through to its end. But Satan is a great one for figuring out our weaknesses and fears, and then working on them like a finely crafted tool until the weaknesses are overpowering, and the fears eat away at all we know to be right and true.

And so I prayed. Constantly. And I swore that I would pray for him/with him everyday after he was born, as well. So far, so good. Every night as I hold my Sammy before bed, we pray for our family and friends, for God's blessings, forgiveness for mistakes made throughout our day, request for a fresh day/new start tomorrow, for full and settled tummies, good dreams, heavy eyes full of sleep, and for God and the angels to sit around the beds of each child in our home. As he's gotten older--he's 19 months old now--he has become quite enamored with the whole bedtime routine, but the prayer time appears to be his favourite part. He likes to pray himself, now.

If we ask Sammy to pray at dinner time, he bows his little blonde curly head, puts his fat little hands up over his eyes, and in his own jibber jabber, says his prayers to God. Very sweet. He enjoys saying grace, and likes to watch us say ours, very fascinated by what we're doing. But it's the bedtime prayers that just give that extra little tug at your heart.

My husband put Sam to bed the other night. Richard told Sam it was time for bed and Sam immediately took off for the stairs--going down, to the living room; wrong direction! We thought he was trying to make a run for it, but a few minutes later he emerged at the top of the stairs with his favourite blue monkey tucked under his arm (he sleeps with this one every day), and ran right to his room, all ready for the next bit. After ensuring that all monkeys and bears were accounted for and tucked in their proper spots in the crib, Richard picked Sam up to pray with him, but asked Sam if he wanted to pray first. And so it began, head bowed, hands over his eyes, the sweet jabbering of a little one too young to say much of anything beyond "oh", "wow" and "down"...anything we understand, anyhow. But something tells me he's saying something.

Richard is not one to be too emotional about anything, but he was very touched by this. We talked about how cute it is, and how we kind of chuckle to ourselves at how pleased he is with himself; but we are both sure (as corny as it may sound) that Sam was praying... and God understood him. I'd love to know the prayers of these little ones, whose hearts speak more deeply to the heart of God than any words we could utter.