Family

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“I’ve got some books to read,” Emi announced in her sing-song voice. A pile of cartoonish literature filled her little arms. She sat down on the floor and dumped the books unceremoniously into a pile. In a moment they were organized into a neat line for display.

“Are you going to read them?” I asked with a glance. The kitchen was slowly becoming a clutter free zone and I did not want to stop my frenzy of cleaning.

“No, you read them,” was the reply.

“I am cleaning,” I informed her.

“No, you read them,” reiterated the little child.

After I stated several more logical reasons why I should continue what I was working on, she finally changed her approach slightly.

“No, you read them on the couch.”

“Ok, let’s read for a minute,” I conceded. I then walked over to the couch, and plopped myself down. We read through three books; Goodnight Moon, I Spy Letters, and Counting Bunnies. During her oration of the stories, her little brother climbed up to flank me on the cushions. After she would finish her rendition of the book, I would pass it him. I fought off the heaviness that attacked my eyelids long enough to engage in the gift of quality time.

After finishing she jumped off the couch and headed for the stairs. As she scampered up the first few steps, she called back, “One more book.”

“Alright, but you read this one by yourself,” I firmly pronounced.

Returning a minute later she piped up, “Read George. Read the numbers.”

Obviously something had been missed in her translation of my intent. Not only had “read by yourself” gone ignored, she had produced the most monotonous tome she could find; George Learns to Count… from 1-100. The standing record for reading this particular story is number 30 or so. After counting through ties, cups, toothpaste drawings, and such – we start to lose focus. I’ve looked ahead to the last page to find George counting 100 steps. I find it hard to imagine anyone, much less a child, reading and counting 100 variations of curious objects.

We began, “1…2…3… pillows.”

At 27 clouds, we find a handful of cloud shapes and finally boredom wins out.

“I want to watch a show,” Emi offers.

I turned on a charming rendition of two rabbit siblings called Max and Ruby. My tireless little daughter makes herself comfortable in her usual spot on the couch. I imagine she will be asking for a blanky, some snack, and milk before too long.

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Why do I share this? Mostly for entertainment value I suppose. On the other hand, I don’t have to reach too far to learn something as well.

In marriage and child rearing I’ve found many chances to serve when I do not want to. I’d say that my selfishness fights for a spot at the table in almost every interaction with my loved ones. Thus, if I’m alert, the power of Christ has its opportunity.

Listing a few challenging instances of serving, Colossians 3:24 has this to say “It is the Lord Christ you are serving.” The attitude of my heart while serving is everything to God.

In Christ,
TD

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http://www.Writing.Com/authors/4edmunds/blog

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