Tonight we lost power for an hour. Thankfully, I had already let the kids talk me into eating by candlelight (you do this sort of thing for poor children who are probably in the throes of grief because their father is on the other side of the earth). As I relit the candles, and found a few more, the children’s reaction was comforting.
They wanted to be close to mom, and reassured that all was well even though something dramatic had changed the predictability of their world. We talked factually about power outages, pioneers, and the blessings of candlelight.
As I put them to bed, I told them that I’d be up for a bit. I left candles in their rooms and started to go out the door to check my…
“Are you going to read your Bible now?” Bethel wanted to know.
“Yes, Bethel, I’m going to read my Bible.” I made that decision a split second before I replied, and I’m glad I did. I realized later that my children were anticipating my response based on a perceived scary event. In other words, they assumed I would read my Bible because they assumed I was as frightened as they were.
I know this is true because after a minute, David asked if I’d read out loud. Again, I was encouraged. How merciful is God! I struggle to read the Bible consistently, am repeatedly convicted about spending more time on the computer with my Bible, but nevertheless deeply desire to love God’s word like my parents did; I have children who have learned in spite of my failings that God and His Word is our refuge.
Praise the Lord. Not unto us be glory, but unto Him.