... And Then We Were Speechless

We were in our family van, like any normal Saturday evening.  On our way home from a long bout of errand running.  The grown ups were done.  So were the kids.  Chicken Fried- over cooked- DONE. DONE. BURNT WELL DONE!

We had a fun time out; purposefully shopping for snow mittens (didn't find any), warm hats (found 2), and so forth on the things we needed for the upcoming snow storm.  (In Georgia.  Ya.  They didn't have any milk or bread anywhere either.)

Perspective: Shopping with 3 young girls (ages 3, 5, and 7). More than 3 hours. 

Not serene.  Slightly painful.

The grown ups said,  "Ok.  There is NO talking in this car.  None.  No. One. Is. Talking! Shhhhhhhhhhhh!!"

Our eardrums hurt.  3 girls.  I probably don't have to explain myself as to why we forced quiet time.

This never works. Quiet time.  It's a good theory.  Good idea.  But? It never works.

 Eventually, somebody (a witty one) says something cute or silly, and then it's okay for them to talk, because... well...... they're NOT whining or screaming, or fussing or fighting or being mean to one another.  

It doesn't hurt our ears to hear cuteness. 

We like cuteness.

On this occasion, our eldest (Kyla) spoke first:

  "We really  need to save our money for kids in other countries that have bad teeth.  It's only $250 and we really, really, really need to do it."

Our middle (Zoe) piped in: 

"YES! We do!  And they look really weird and they need to have their teeth fixed really really bad!!."

Kyla said 

"I want to start saving all of my money that I get until I get $250 so I can help them."

(prior to, she had been saving all of her money for an iPod touch.)

"Well? We should actually carefully consider saving money for your teeth just in case you need braces, baby." (Sigh..... )

Kyla replied:

"No, Mommy.  I don't want to just think of myself.  I want to help those kids.  They really need our help, Mommy."

(My head is hanging lower and higher all at the same time as I write this.  

Ashamed that I was so selfish.  Proud that she was firmly selfless.)

"So, what exactly are you talking about? They need their teeth fixed? What do you mean?"

Both girls explained that it was in a magazine I had laying on our couch (you can call it a sofa if you want) and they'd show us the picture when we got home.

Several months ago I bought a Good Housekeeping magazine.

I never read it.  

Forgot that I had it.

Maybe I had stuck in the bathroom? 

They found the magazine and skimmed it over.  

Toward the back they saw a picture that looked something like this:

HOW OFTEN TO YOU GET A CHANCE 

TO SAVE A CHILD'S LIFE FOR $250? 

  

We got home and they enthusiastically showed us their treasure, as if pointing out a new toy that they so desperately wanted; their eyes were filled with anticipation and hope: Can we, Can we, Can we PLEASE!?

And then we were speechless. 

 Us grownups.  Us know-it-alls.  

Us "quiet in the car there is NO talking".

We were blown away.  We were in awe and humiliated. 

Alright.  Forget the past tense- I am still blown away.  

We are STILL speechless. Still in a state of "Wow?"

Our kids? Our girls? These are ours?  

Nope.  They're not.  Well? They are. But- no. And yes. It's yes and no.  The are- but not fully.

We did this whole "Dear God, these are YOUR kids on loan to us. They belong to You.  Use them.  Teach them.  Mold them.  Get us out of the way if need be. Thank You for allowing us the pleasure of raising them.... ." and- stuff- like- that- kind- of- prayer.   

IT wasn't a one time prayer.  It's one of those 'without ceasing' prayers.  

Especially when we're really roughing it: "Lord!?  These are YOUR children... tell. us. what. to. do.  We are FAILING. We gave them to YOU, remember?! Helllllllppppp. US!!!!!!!!!!"

Ya. It makes more sense to me now that I'm writing it all down.  God took us up on our offer.  We opened our hands and let them go- over to Better Hands where they belong.  And HE is using THEM to minister to US!

Are YOU speechless? 

I Am.

So we have a jar.  

And I'm so stoked to follow my children on their journey of giving.  I'm gonna take some notes.  

I'm sure they're gonna teach me a thing or two.....