Counting for Jesus

I should begin by saying that Jeff normally puts the boys to bed each night. But early last night Griffin was slowly starting to melt down and I was the one that threw in the towel on the incessant whining first. After getting him ready for bed, I decided to rock him for a few minutes to see if we could at least end his tulmultuous evening on a calm note. We sang a few songs together and then I whispered a prayer in his ear - basically begging our Lord and Savior for a moment of peace. He was unusually quiet after I finished, so I asked him if he wanted to talk to Jesus. He nodded his little head yes. I waited wondering if I should help him out with one he could repeat after me, but then he began. "1-2-3," he whispered slowly, "4-5-6-7-8-9-10. I love Jesus, I love Jesus." He looked at me proudly, clearly finished with his prayer. "Griffin," I said, "were you counting for Jesus?" "Yes." He said happily.

Counting is Griffin's newest skill and thus far the most difficult one he has mastered at the ripe old age of 2. In counting, he had given his absolute best to Jesus. No doubt in that precious moment God felt far more glorified than when I struggle to come up with the perfect words in just exactly the right order that will turn the tide in my direction. Really, I would be better off assessing my heart and giving God my absolute best followed by an "I love Jesus, I love Jesus."