After an afternoon of swimming and slideshows to celebrate my Mom’s 60th birthday, we stayed the night so we could go to church with her today. It’s been more than a few years since my last visit to the little Lutheran church in which I grew up.
After tucking the kids into the futon in my old room, I lay at the foot of the bed to ensure they fell asleep without killing each other. To preempt trouble I rolled up a quilt to demarcate their areas of the shared mattress and gave Julia a separate sheet.
Julia often turns up the drama right before conking out, and she suddenly blurted out, “I can’t sleep. I’m afraid of everything!” Delton, to my surprise, responded before I could: “Julia, just tell your stuffed dog what you’re afraid of.”
“But he’s not real,” she replied. Without skipping a beat, his answer to that: “Well, use your imagination. Or just tell your problems to God. You know, like in a prayer.”
Next thing I know, he’s mumbling a prayer, something I’ve never seen him do without prompting. “I asked God to help me not be afraid of camp tomorrow.” He had spent the last few days expressing anxiety about his first overnight camp experience without us.
Today, our time dropping him off at Camp Kirchenwald could not have gone smoother. He seemed to instantly bond with his bunkmates and was kinda eager for us to leave.
Now, it’s our turn to pray…that he’ll want to come home!