It's My Blog And I'll Brag If I Want To

I've had this post in mind for over a week now but just haven't had a good chance to sit down and type it.

Of course, I'm starting this about 5 minutes before I need to make lunch.  Guess that means I'm getting better about squeezing things in as I can.  It may take me 15 trips to the computer, but I vow to get this written today!

We took the boys to see Toy Story 3 a few weeks ago.  (And yes, I cried.)  It was Nathan's first time in a movie theatre and he did very well.  He sat on Clinton's lap the whole time, snuggling with his blankie and his thumb in his mouth.  He was unbelievably quiet and well-behaved for an almost-three-year-old. We had no idea what to expect out of him, so we were very pleasantly surprised.  And some people say miracles don't happen -- HA! 

After the movie we went to Applebee's to eat.  We really weren't very hungry but couldn't decide on any place else to go.  We finished eating and were on our way to the car.  In the parking space right in front of the restaurant door there sat an older model car with two older ladies in the front seat.  I'm guessing the car was about a mid '80s Dodge Aries type, very faded grey paint with some spots worse than others.

 As we came out of the door they had tried to start the car but the engine wouldn't turn over.  They tried it again.  Still nothing.  Clinton and I were still walking towards the car, but  also looking at each other, wondering silently if he needed to give them a hand.  Then they tried a third time and it started right up.

As we got to the car Matthew looked at me and said, "Well, that worked."  I stood there and stared at him for a moment and then asked him, "Matthew, did you pray for those ladies, for their car to start?"  He said that he had. 

Yes, I am the proud momma of a thoughtful, compassionate son. 

And now for Brag #2.

A few Sundays ago I was picking Nathan up from the church nursery after worship services were over.  There is a big, open window between the hallway and the main nursery room.  You hand your child and their paraphernalia  through the open window rather than open the door and possibly let another child out into the hallway. While I was waiting in line to claim Nathan I was talking to our friends Chris and Holley.  Holley is the daughter of some of our best friends and they had just picked up their baby son, Kael, from the nursery.  

As Nathan approached the window he suddenly pointed out the window and shouted, "That's my Jesus!"  Chris, Holley and I looked at each other, wondering what he was talking about.  Did he mean Chris, or baby Kael, or someone else, or what on earth was going through his little head?  By the time I got Nathan out Chris and Holley were gone.  

We walked down to the foyer to meet Clinton and Matthew.  There I spotted Chris and Holley.  I asked Nathan if he saw his Jesus anywhere.  He looked around, pointed at Chris and said again, "That's my Jesus!"  

Okay, so he did mean Chris.  I can understand his mistake.  Chris is a nice-looking young man, very friendly, tall and slim with curly brown hair and nicely-trimmed facial hair.  

I had no idea Nathan "knew" what Jesus looked like.  We've read some books about Jesus and such, but I had never really thought about them as profile pictures of the Messiah.

It was a full week later before I realized the true significance of what transpired.  Nathan had said  MY Jesus.  Not, "There's Jesus!" or "There's Mommy's Jesus!"  MY Jesus.

It's very encouraging to know that SOMETHING is getting into their heads, and their hearts.

PS - It only took me 3 trips to the computer today to get this written.  :)