Toddler Teaches Mama to Handle with Prayer

By Angela Weight

My 20 month old son, Andrew’s bedtime ritual was comforting to us both. We’d climb into the glider rocker, read books and give goodnight kisses to his stuffed animals. Prayers were last. I loved watching his chubby hands, palm to palm as he repeated “Now I lay me down to sleep…” in baby talk.  

At 5:30 one Friday afternoon, my stress level was maxed. A bona fide people-pleaser, I’d over-extended myself. Again! The Martins were coming for dinner at 6:30. I’d boasted a gourmet fare of beef tips, rice, fresh asparagus and sweet potato soufflé. After working all day, I had a house to clean, a meal to cook and time was wasting.

Andrew, always helpful, emptied Goldfish crackers onto the kitchen floor and played steamroller through them. Trying to keep a sense of humor, I relocated him to the couch with Elmo as I boiled water for asparagus and rice, seasoned the meat, furiously beat the egg whites and began unloading the dishwasher.

It was now 6:00. Maybe I could pull off a decent meal.

That’s when Andrew toddled back into the kitchen and said, “Andwoo help Mommy.”

“That’s okay, Sweetie.”

“Andwoo help,” he insisted, holding up a piece of china from the dishwasher. “NO!”  I gasped just in time to see the plate crash onto the tile floor.

With broken glass everywhere, he mumbled tearfully, “Andwoo sorry, Mommy.”

Overwhelmed and panicked, I whisked my barefoot toddler up and bawled “I have to clean up this mess. Dinner is going to be ruined and you have to stay in your crib so the glass doesn’t cut your feet.” As he slid from my arms into bed, I moaned “The Martins will be here any minute and their house and their dinners are always perfect.”

As I turned to walk out, Andrew grabbed my hand as if I was forgetting something and said “Prayers, Mommy!” Touched and caught off guard, I sighed “That’s a great idea.”

Right there, I knelt down and turned all of the day’s chaos over to God. I thanked him for using my little boy to remind me that prayers shouldn’t wait until bedtime. And I needed one right there and then.

The doorbell rang just as I was sweeping up the last of the broken china. The egg whites were flat, the asparagus was a green swamp and the beef was a lost cause. But, I was semi-relaxed. So what? It was just food. More important was spending time with friends. That’s the night we went out for dinner and I discovered my love for Sushi.

As a parent I mistakenly thought I was the teacher and Andrew was the student. But sometimes it’s the other way around. When life is most hectic we need to slow down and turn the craziness over to God. No deadline is so pressing that we can’t spare time to pray.

Things turn out better when we do.

Angela Weight writes from Dublin, Georgia. calpeach27@yahoo.com