I dreamed I tried to quit saying damn so much.

I told a friend recently that if my boys don't do something funny, dangerous or possibly illegal soon that I don't know what my next post will be.  Enter Sam, who told his teacher that we teach him to beat up other kids at will.  He's insane. And he was apparently pretend shooting at something or someone in class last week.  And that didn't go over well, either. (Let's all say a group prayer for his teacher.) 

 

So David commented a bit on the disadvantages of the school system for boys.  And WE know boys.... they climb, run, wrestle, shoot, and move ... all over the place. All the time.  Hold the wild west show, boys, you're scaring the faint of heart.  He suggested we home school our youngest - the pretend shooter, the fighter.... and I thought, .... sweet mother of Jesus, NO NO NO...we've already taught him to fight and shoot everything - we've given him all we've got.

On another note, Christopher asked what it means to pray God's heart.  Which is funny because that's  the title of my 31 day writing challenge this month - 31 Days of Praying God's Heart for my Children.  So I told him my opinion - that it means to pray for all the good things God has stored in his heart for us.  Praying for it to show in our lives. 

But what have I been showing in mine?  I think I've actually prayed less with the boys as I've written on this subject.  Remember... no experts here in the house of angels, pirates and thieves.  (And I think that who ever dreamed up the 31 day writing challenge has lost her mind and has way too much time on her hands.) 

Last night I had a dream.  I was teaching a step aerobics class teetering on the edge of a winding staircase with a giant alligator running underfoot.  I also dreamed one night that I got a terrible haircut and that I was trying to quit saying damn so much. 

So what's showing?  My fear of alligators and bad hair? Or my insecurities and worries?   

One day when Christopher was in first grade he made it to school with a pair of my panties static cling stuck to his sweater.  And his teacher said he waved them around to the world like a flag.  And sometimes I feel like I'm waving a few of my underthings around on this blog when I tell the world my every thought, my hopes, fears and mistakes.  But maybe that's another way to pray.  A way to voice my concerns to God when I can't find the right kind of words. 

And I know he listens.  And he hears.  And if the words aren't coming or I said them at warp speed, he still heard.  And I want my kids to understand that - that even if they fall asleep while they pray at bedtime, God knows their hearts.  And he comforts them into rest.  The way a conversation with a loved one should.