More Pray

I had a particularly cruddy day recently. Now, please keep in mind that my cruddy days are comparatively mild. I have wonderful, healthy children; I have an amazing husband who is loving and fun; I have a nice home and food in the pantry.
So let me set up my bad day story by reminding you that in the past five years I've gone from being a single girl living in Hawaii to being a wife and mother of four. Please hear me that my life now is so much better than it ever has been. However, on some days I have a hard time letting go of my former Rondacentric self. Some days I revert into that 5 year old kid stomping out of the room when she doesn't get her way and slamming a door or two...sad but true. I realize dying to my self-centeredness is a process and that God is teaching me, growing me, refining me. Meanwhile, I have an occasional pity party -- an occasional cruddy day.
Late in the afternoon of my recent bad day, Eli wanted a snack so I put him in his chair and scattered some Honey Nut Cheerios on his tray and filled up his juice cup with watered down Crangrape. Then, holding Margaret Jane, I sat down beside him with a sigh and leaned my back against the wall preparing to crank up the music in my head that would accompany my pity party. Just before the volume went to 10, my one year old son looked at me and said, "Pray". That is not unusual for him, as he loves to pray before he eats, even before he snacks. I said a quick prayer and returned my focus to the angry tune playing in my head. Then my Eli said something that caused the needle to scratch off the record and snapped me out of my mode of self-pity. He said, "More". He had plenty of juice and Cheerios, so I could not imagine what he wanted more of, so I asked him, "More what?" He then said, "More pray".
Tears filled my eyes as I looked at the face of my one year old son and heard the voice of my sweet Savior. More prayer was exactly what I needed, more conversation with a God who loves me exceedingly abundantly more than I can imagine and who seeks to bless me in ways I cannot fathom. Jesus is so incredibly patient with us. All the blessings He has given me, and I am going to grumble and grouse over a thing or two not going my way. When he could have easily rolled his eyes and thrown up his hands in disgust at my lack of growth, my Savior instead spoke to me in the sweet voice of my son and reminded me that He is what I need in every circumstance. So next time I am tempted to sink into the mire of ridiculous self-pity, I instead will remember what I truly need is More Pray.