Things I Learn From my Kids

A few months ago I was telling my daughter, Charity how much I loved her.  At least, that was the goal.  As I sat at my barstool drinking my morning coffee, I was struck by the simple innocence she has so naturally.  She was twirling and pretending to be a dancer of some kind and  I wanted to let her know how beautiful and loved she is.  So I asked her to come and sit on my lap so I could tell her how much I love her.

"Charity," I started off, "do you know what?"

"What?"  She responded, not really making eye contact and looking conspicuously at something in the corner of the room.

I paused, waiting for her attention.  "Charity,"  I started again really wanting her to hear this.

"What?"  She responded again, this time making brief eye contact.

"You are very beautiful. and..."  I paused because she was once again fidgeting and distracted by something.  After another awkward pause, she looked at me realizing I was not done.  "I love you."

"Do you know what, Dad?" she interrupted "I love robot fairy princesses from outer space."  She then proceeded to tell me something that had no connection to what I had just said or any basis in reality.  Something about fairy ballerina princesses from another planet was not where I would have naturally taken the conversation.  A bit taken aback, I stated again "I just wanted you to know that I love you very much."  

"I know" she said in a way that made me wonder if she had really heard anything in our conversation.  She then continued with the alien-fairy-robot-ballerina story.  This dance of me trying to be serious and sincere and her brushing me off and not being able to focus on any one thing happened for the greater part of 5 minutes.  It was clear that she just wanted to dance and talk, not to listen.

This exchange popped into my head when I was praying the next day.  I was spending some time before the Blessed Sacrament when I caught myself going through a laundry list of prayers in a mechanical and unfocused manner.  I paused and realized that, to God, I must seem a lot like my daughter - distracted, fidgeting, and talking about things that seem small in the grand scheme.  I realized that I need to spend some time listening and letting God tell me how much He loves me.  I need to spend less time "doing prayer" and more time "being prayer."  It's funny how kids help you to grow closer to God - not always in the ways that you expect.