The past couple of days the air has been filled with silence during those miles between daycare and school. He's had a tough week and we've butted heads each morning, which has left us both frustrated and upset. He hasn't wanted to talk and he hasn't wanted to pray. I let him have the silence but continue the routine of praying for him even if in his anger he is resistant.
Wednesday morning as he climbed out of the car I called out "I love you," which was met with a barely audible grumble of something trying to resemble I love you too even if he didn't feel it in the moment. I watched him walk away, so little still but already so grown. He's all skinny legs and arms right now. I remember counting each tiny finger and toe when they first placed him in my arms and the pure joy when he was able to start grabbing onto my hands in return.
My heart hurts when we have the tough mornings. I know that he has gone through a lot of change and that he is learning to figure out who he is and who he isn't. As I drive away I pray a silent prayer "Lord help me to be the mom he needs."
Thursday morning my happy boy had returned - it's amazing what a good night's sleep can do! For the first time, during our morning routine he excitedly asked if he could pray all on his own. So I listened to the earnest prayers of my oldest. With eyes scrunched tight, he prayed for our day, for our family and he ended by asking the Lord to let us feel His love. The simple, trust-filled prayers of a small boy reminding me of God's love for us.
I know that during the course of raising my little ones, there will be more tough mornings and days, and there will be many more joy and laughter-filled moments. And for the times that are hard, I know that I'm not doing this alone, that every step of the way God will provide me with what I need.