This is Better

     I sent Etienne to school with 2 apology notes and a check today.  One was regarding a broken bookshelf and a shattered box, the other a Junie B Jones book (who lets him check that out anyway? Really?!).  His report card was less than stellar and he was angry at us for going to a Maroon 5 concert without him.  All that is okay.  Sure, we expect him to be respectful, to represent Christ to his teachers and his peers; and I am pretty sure Jesus wouldn't crash into furniture, leaving it shattered but still "being the first in line, Mom."  (Insert Molly trying to tell him about the "first shall be last" here).  But....this is better.
    Thursday night, Etienne sat in the bathroom, praying, as I sat exhausted on the floor listening.  He had been more than a little insecure about his brother having a birthday and a lot of extra attention.

 "God, thank you for my warm house and for mac and cheese.  And please help me be potty trained.  Please strike life into people. Amen."

     I thought I misunderstood him, so I asked what he meant about striking lightening into people.  

"Not lightening, Mom! Life! God can strike life into people and that is what I was thinking when I told Keagon about God."

           "Huh?" Me, still on the floor in the corner, wishing someone else was hearing this.

"Well, everyday when I am telling Keagon about God, that is what I was praying.  He thinks we came from Adam and Eve, but I keep trying to tell him.  Tomorrow I have to tell him about Jesus on the cross."

     He went on to tell me his conversations with his friend that had been going on all week.  This child, this 6 year old, this boy that probably wore his  teacher out today, exasperated his sister and had me praying aloud for patience.  This kid who just a few weeks ago (!) never said he loved me and absolutely doubted his worth in Jesus.  This boy that can't sleep through the night and worries about a hangnail yet gets his hand stuck in the van door without a flinch.  This is our son that we have been fighting for.  Sharing  the gospel at recess.  Holy awesome!   There aren't words.
     I tear up thinking about this battle and how God always, always wins.  There have been many times in the last couple of years that I have physically found my own fists clenched and ready to fight for this child's heart;  I have felt so strongly that there was a spiritual battle going on for his soul to be all ours.   We know that God has plan for each of his children, and we have known for some time that someday, Etienne's redemption story would blow people out of the water.  The water is rippling here.
     So I know that we need to deal with the broken furniture and missing library books, but I don't care.  In the big picture (as my dad says), it doesn't matter.  Etienne has found love.