Story Interruptions

Shorty is supposed to be resting.

But instead, he is asking me innumerable questions about why the sun isn't up, why can't he sleep in here all night with "you guys", do I want another sticker on the computer, and, by the way, isn't it cozy sitting together like this? "It makes hearts!" (I actually love it when he says this. Don't know where he got it.)

But back to my story.

This week we are musing about how we awakened to faith. Truth be known, I have vivid and strong memories of God being by my side and a knowable presence as far back as I can remember. I certainly got more understanding later of who he was and why he was there and...hold on...another question from a wee voice...

Why are you writing a story?

Answer delivered. Okay, where was I? Right! So, as far back as I can remember, He has been there. Thus, my awakening as been rather gradual. There have been powerful moments of transition, but I - 

What does it say?

I'm working on it, kiddo. 

Can I sign it?

It's not a letter, it's a story, Simon. 

Okay, so....I lost my train of thought. I am beginning to think God is showing me how to explain my "wake up" moment.

God, can certainly choose charming folks to speak through! As I am sitting here next to my sweetie, I am reminded of my journey. I seem to always have been aware of God, like I was hanging out with him, sitting next to him, interested and distracted by life around me, and perhaps oblivious to the fact that He may have been working. But we were there. Together.

I cuddled next to Him. We shared a giggle. I remembered that He was there for me, especially after bad dreams. Then, I started to take notice that He was trying to work on something. 

I began asking questions. Lots of them.

Story-writing looked like fun. Or was that a letter He was working on? Maybe both?

I became curious about His focus. What kind of a story is that? Who are you writing it to? Why? And finally...

...my "wake up" moment...

Can I help you write your story? 

As I sit here marveling that my son just asked me this, I am warmed by the vivid reminder and understanding that at one point, my heart began to ask God this very question. That desire, and God's response, sums up what happened when my heart changed. 

Can you sign "Simon" at the bottom?

I long to live a life which helps to write Your story! I, too, would be honored if You would let me sign my name as one of the cloud of witnesses who decided to be story-tellers too.

Mom, I'm hungry.

Me too, kiddo. Me too.