We're Getting a Dolphin

While driving down the interstate recently, Isaiah piped up:

"Mom, when we do school and you're my teacher,
can you get me a dolphin so I can swim with it?"

So there I was, looking in the rearview mirror at my son - looking back at the road -
looking in the rearview mirror - looking back at the road...

He's for real. And I don't think Petco carries dolphins. Shoot.



But all I can think of is how can I give this GOOD THING to my child.
How can I bring this happiness to his life? How can I answer his... prayer?
Where in the world am I going to find a dolphin?

We pray with our kids every night. It's a lot of "God bless the door knob and the rocking
chair and the curtains" and "thank you for my elbow and the mailman and the light switch."
It's funny, but beautiful at the same time. EVERYTHING they usually name is an indication
that we live in a first world country. So yes. God bless and thank you.

Lately I've been sneaking back into their room at night, after they've finally had enough
sips of water and trips to the bathroom, and say my own prayers. The prayers I pray by
myself suddenly seem so much stronger as a I rock in the rocking chair and let the tears
slide down my cheeks.

I pray down good things on them -- for our family --
hopes and needs as big as a mother's heart can imagine.

God loves you a lot, you know?

I know that when the valley gets low or the night grows long that I sometimes forget.
When the lights go out and the to-do list never ends and the babies still need - need -
need me I lose sight of Him.

Call me the Apostle Peter, walking on the water, "I've got this, Lord - look at me,"
as the water trickles over my feet, inching up to my knees, engulfing my entire body.
And I look up, trying to breathe, "JESUS!?"

Call me Thomas, the doubter, who wants to see and feel the very proof of the love given
and received in so great a sacrifice. The kind of love that I know is there, but so often
covered up by a little thing called skepticism.

Call me Martha, as in the sister of Mary, "Lord, I will bend over backwards to make sure
You are comfortable, but I'll let my sister look You in the eyes and receive the greater gift."
Because I'm pretty sure I'm not worthy. I imagine I have a whole life of unopened gifts from
God thanks to that lie.

But Jesus doesn't hand out dolphins.

And mothers do?

Because there I was, racking my brain, planning a whole vacation to Florida just so my
beloved son can swim with the dolphins... and I just stopped.

"Thank you, God, for loving ME, your beloved daughter, like this."
Thank you for all the 'dolphins' You've sent my way."

It's the same. But so much bigger.

Here I am in my sinful, human state trying my best and hardest to make sure
that not only are the "needs", the bare necessities, of my son's heart met, but I'm
working on the "hopes", the "dreams", the "extras", the "over-the-tops" as well.

Because I love him.
And God loves ALL -- so much more than any of that.