Every morning (or as best fits into the day's schedule) we read an excerpt from The Jesus Storybook Bible, after Momma has finished her eggs and while the kids continue to munch on their cereal. We've cycled through the story of God's people a few times by now, and each time we finish, we just come right back to The Beginning.
Today was the most serious of the readings. The Crucifixion.
As I read about how He carried his cross and the soldiers mocked him, trying my best, with my voice, to portray the gravity of the moment, each of my children clamored for my attention. Emmett, sitting closest, placed his hand gently on my arm. Joseph shot his arm in the air, Micaiah's hand also stood raised.
I finished the page and turned the book to show the pictures as I addressed them each in turn.
"Yes, Emmett?" I acknowledged his gentle waiting hand.
"Um, in the song, they call it a 'tree' - or, I mean, in the story at church. And, um, also . . . Not now, but on the next page, I mean the next chapter it's coming, they're going to put Him in the Tomb."
"That's right, Emmett. What did you need Micaiah?"
"Um, I think we should go Me, Emmett and Joseph to pray for breakfast, lunch and dinner." That's right, before the story started, the kids had been arguing over who would pray for the meal, just as always.
"Micaiah, it is up to Mommy and Daddy to decide who will pray and when. You will not make a chart or set a schedule. We will decide for whatever reasons we choose."
She pouts and I turn to Joseph, still waiting with his arm up.
"Um, Jesus - monkeys like bananas!"
"Yes, yes they do."
Those are my children in a nutshell. Emmett, the sponge - always listening, soaking things in, making connections and asking questions. Micaiah, the planner - with a solution to every problem and a plan to make things right (what else from the girl who arrived on her due date - right on schedule). Joseph, well, Joseph.
Man, I love these kids.