For anyone who has been "keeping up", you may have noticed how God has moved mountains in my life. I started this blog out of desparation. I was lost. I was scared. I didn't know how to ask my husband if he'd allow raising our kids in The Church. I hid this fear from my Christian social circle. I was ashamed. He had been against it in previous discussions. I knew I didn't want to defy him. I didn't want to go behind his back. I didn't want to take on the battle. I did not know how to ask him. I asked HIM, instead, to move this mountain for me.
I not only found the courage, but the joy, not only to attend church, but to truly believe. My husband is not only supportive, but he's proud. Encouraging. He tells me, daily, how proud he is. He tells me how he has seen the change in me. And how it has helped him to change his own perspective. To gain a perspective of gratitude. We're less likely to seek, or expect gratitude. We're learning how to appreciate our countless blessings, and appreciate each other. He tells me about the conversations he has with other people, how he brags about the fact that his wife takes his boys to church every Sunday. He tells me how envious everyone is. I used to be envious.
He believes me when I say "I prayed for that." Now, he's asking me, "did you pray about that?" Yes, actually, I did. I pray often, about everything. And when I asked him why he thought I go to church each Sunday...he shrugged. He sort of knew. I gather he thought it had something to do with our boys. Or needing to find a place in this life, in this world. No. That's not why. (Although, those are wonderful derivatives.) This is why: I go to thank Him.
And, there's more. My two-year old says, "Thank you, God. Amen." He nearly recites a book we read, every night, titled Thank You, God. (for everything). He says "God bless you" to Daddy when he sneezes. He won't grow up, as I did, not knowing if there's a God or not. God is apart of his vocabulary and apart of his life.
"Train up a child in the way he should go: and when he is old, he will not depart from it."
My teenager, a year ago, was a self-proclaimed, 'conformist' athiest. [this is someone who was raised Catholic, and endured the year-plus Confirmation process. how could i lead him back?] We fought nearly every day. I carried guilt over being an "evil step-mother." I felt like a failure, because he couldn't pass his classes. I couldn't get him to even care.
Leave it to God to use a cute girl to ask him to come to youth group, one Wednesday night. Once I saw the willingness, the 'I'm-not-so-completely-against-it' surrender, I took him to church with me. Now...it's just what we do Sunday mornings. No questions asked. No reluctance (well, there's a little reluctance; he is a teenager, afterall). He wore a rosary to his first day of school. His senior year. He's on track to graduate early. How much more proud can a mother be? When Pastor's Wife prayed a back-to-school blessing over him that ended with "this will be your Finest Hour," he believed it. Enough to want a tattoo that says, "Finest Hour."
We'll see about that.
"As for me and my house, we WILL serve The Lord." ~Joshua 24:15