June 3

Brady came home from preschool today, had lunch, and decided that he wanted to play a video game. My allergies are kicking my bum right now, so I said fine, great, have at it. And so he (and his adorable kitty face make-up from camp) did just that. At one point, he called to me from the other room. He told me that he had something important to show me. So --begrudgingly-- I got up.

He said "look mommy, it's a cross." So I looked. And sure enough, I could see a tiny cross on a hill on the screen. "Yes, I see it. It is a cross." And then he got serious. "Jesus died on a cross." I nodded. He stood there, clutching the game, as if pondering his next words, but he kept whatever he was thinking to himself. After a long pause, he headed back into the other room to continue his game.

Me? I was humbled by my five-year old, who not only saw the cross --the itty bitty cross-- but decided that he needed to show it to me because of what it means to us. If I'd been in his shoes, would I have noticed it? I don't know. Maybe so. But I'm pretty sure I wouldn't have called him into the room to point it out and to remind him of Jesus' sacrifice.

I could learn a lot from my kiddos.