We were headed to Fiesta yesterday to do some grocery shopping. (For those of you who don’t live in Texas, Fiesta is a hispanic grocery store chain) I was driving around the parking lot when Josiah asked “Where going Mami?”
Me: We’re going to Fiesta
Josiah: Where, where?
Me: Right here, sweetie
Josiah: Where going Mami?
Me: To Fiesta, we’re going grocery shopping.
Josiah: Where going Mami?
Me: Josiah! I’m looking for a place to park. We’re going to Fiesta to get groceries.
Josiah: Where is it Mami? Where party?!?!?!
Seriously he thought we were going to a party to buy groceries! Then when we were inside he saw the cakes at the bakery.
Josiah: Mami! Want one, cake! Want one cake!
Me: No, Josiah. We don’t need a cake.
Josiah: For you Mami. Want cake for Mami!
Me: Oh, you want a cake for me?
Me: And who’s going to eat it?
At this point the baker laughs out loud and tells me my boys are precious. And she’s right. They are. These are the stories I love to tell. These are the things that are on the tip of my tongue when my husband gets home. The moments I wish I had known were coming so I could have the camera ready. Those stories are the ones I tell with joy. Because they are adorable! Because they show my kids at their best.
My mother in law tells a story about Samuel that I’m sure I’ve heard at least 30 times. She loves to tell it and her eyes light up with the memories of the special moments she experienced with her son. She tells of when he was going through a growth spurt and he would get hungry in the middle of the night. She would leave some cookies by his bed and would wake up to the beautiful sound of her little boy munching on the cookies. It’s the story she loves to tell.
As parents we take joy in the achievements and shining moments of our children. We love to recount and relive those sweet times of beauty and innocence. We talk about the things that make us proud and the things that make us smile. The longer I am a parent, the closer I get to understanding the heart of God and His love for His children. I can think of dozens of cute stories I love to tell about my babies. I’m so proud of all they do.
It makes me wonder though, what stories does my Heavenly Father love to tell about me. What is He most proud of. Does He smile and remember the innocence of my childhood? Does he look for someone to tell when I conquer my fears or overcome obstacles that I hadn’t been able to before? Does he have any favorite stories about me? The thought that I can fill God’s heart with joy like my boys do to me is amazing.
But after all we are His children.
because those who are led by the Spirit of God are sons of God. For you did not receive a spirit that makes you a slave again to fear, but you received the Spirit of sonship. And by him we cry, "Abba, Father. The Spirit himself testifies with our spirit that we are God's children.