Wilson is three years old now and very much into "I can do it myself". He doesn't want to have to hold my hand or have me spotting him on playground apparatus. But there is one thing he always asks for help. "Mommy, help me pray?"
It's almost as if he's aware of the sovereign act we are engaging in. He isn't scared or helpless but he understands the need to approach the throne of God with respect and an attitude of a teachable spirit. His wild and crazy self calms to a still as he folds his hands and squinches his eyes shut.
"Dear God..., Mommy, help me pray?" Those words squeeze my heart as I take my son's hand and together we go before our Father, telling Him about our day, praising Him for the blessings it held, asking for forgiveness and wisdom, and always ending with Wils' precious little voice, "I love you God!"