In our house, we do what most parents do when a child complains of an injury.
We say, “Aw, come here. Let me kiss it and make it better.”
It’s so predictable. Hope is immediately comforted upon receiving her kiss. In fact, she’s come to depend upon a kiss from Mommy or Daddy to heal her invisible “hurt.”
Hope is also in the habit of needing us to pray for her when she gets hurt. We bow our heads, close our eyes and pray, “Dear Jesus, please help Hope feel better. Amen.” Then she suggests we pray for Rhema, her grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins, friends and anyone she can think of – each one by name.
Last week Hope and I went to our first Parent/Tot gymnastics class at a new gym. The class has been going on for several weeks, but due to illnesses and doctor appointments, we had missed a number of sessions. The class was very structured, which was a little different for us. In her old class, Hope had free time to explore the gymnasium. In this class, there were obstacle courses and activities that had to be completed as a group before you could move on to another part of the gym. I thought to myself, Rhema and I would have had a really hard time in a parent/tot class like this.
All the children lined up and were instructed to hop one at a time down a long track of in-ground trampoline and then jump into a foam pit. The parents stood on the sidelines. When it was Hope’s turn to hop, she was very excited and started out a little too quickly. After a few hops she could not control her momentum and fell on her back with a thud.
She stood up in the middle of the trampoline track and announced,
“Mommy. I hurt my butt!!!”
“O.K., honey. You O.K.?”
“You gotta kiss it!”
I quickly looked around. “Um, Hope. Kids are waiting behind you. Keep going!”
“No. You gotta kiss it. Kiss it, Mommy!” Suddenly my two-year old had a demanding tone and posture. Tears were coming to her eyes. She twisted around and pointed to her backside.
I turned to the parents around me and mumbled, “Um. I don’t kiss her b… b…. (pause) fingers, toes, belly, yes… but… not…”
With that I went and scooped her off the trampoline and carried her to one side of the gym.
“How ‘bout we just pray,” I whispered.
So we discreetly bowed our heads and prayed — for Hope first, and then everyone we know.
Dear Lord, thank you for Sheri. Please heal and comfort her today as she goes in for surgery…