8:30pm is the golden hour of the day.
It is the time that I put my girls to bed.
It's the time where the random requests stop, duties slow to a halt, and my time is my own.
If I want to sit down and watch a show or read a book, I CAN.
If I want to eat dinner in silence, I CAN.
If I want to pray, or catch up on blogging, I CAN.
It is my time.
It is also often the time that God stirs me. Even He knows that I'm free.
8:30 is peace.
But I usually have to start around 7:50 telling them to get ready for bed.
And by the time 8:30 comes, there is a bit of anxiousness in wrapping up the business of getting them to sleep.
So while picking up a few toys on the floor, and cutting off lights, Haven began talking to me.
Haven is my child that loves to talk.
She is her Daddy's child.
She's very social, doesn't know a stranger, and naturally likes to talk.
She's the "doesn't let you get a word in edgewise" type of talker.
I am not much of a talker. After 13 years of marriage, my husband will ramble on, and then say: "You don't have nothing to say?" (LOL), just as annoyed as ever.
Y'all, I'm just not a big talker.
So when she first started talking, and never stopped, it was alarming.
I said: "God, how did you give ME, of all people, a little Chatty Cathy.
Sis wakes up at 6:50am, and by 6:51am, she's already off the races with stories and conversation.
I love my sweet girl.
But I'm still not used to it.
So sometimes (God forgive me. Because I feel guilty about it), but I may or may not tune her out until she hits something valid.
When you have a kid/person that rambles, you get used to tapping in when they're saying something relevant.
Most of the time, you're simply abiding them.
And in true Haven fashion, when she starts to get sleepy, she fights it. And fighting it means talking more.
So there I was, hurrying to clean up the room so that I could cut off the lights, and get to my 8:30 time of bliss.
And there Haven was, fighting sleep, and using my presence to do it.
She bopped from one story to the other, her words beginning to drag as sleep started catching up to her.
But then, her tone changed.
And she said: "Mommy.....guess what."
And while still cleaning, I said: "What Honey?"
She said: "I always wondered how God heard our prayers. I was thinking do they get to him like a text message or something. So I asked God about how our prayers get to him. And I had a dream last night."
Now she had my full attention.
Because I always listen to my children's dreams.
I believe that God communicates with our children more than we realize.
And even if her dream wasn't such an occasion, it is important that she understands that dreams are important, and even more, that I care to hear them when she wants to share them with me.
So I stopped what I was doing, turned my body towards her, and gave her my undivided attention.
She went on:
"Mommy I had a dream where I saw all of these people praying. And each prayer went up to heaven as a bubble. Inside each bubble were people's prayers. All of the bubbles were different sizes. The bubbles went to God, he'd read the bubble, then handed the bubble to an angel. And the angel would go to answer the prayer."
I stood in the room dumbfounded.
I knew that Haven's dream had come from God.
I know that this may sound bad, especially coming from Pastors, but Gayle and I do not teach our kids a lot of things directly from the Bible.
Sure, they know about bible stories, and Christianity 101.
But we do not sit them down, break open the Bible and teach them that way.
At this age, the way that we live in front of them is more doctrine than any scriptures that we could read.
Kids this age comprehend nature, actions, and what they SEE you do, as opposed to what you say to do.
We really are their Bible right now.
Having said that, Haven has RARELY heard about angels and their role.
Sure, she's a PK, so she's sat in church and heard plenty of messages.
But in the 10 years of Haven's life, I cannot recall having a conversation with her about angels.
And remember, SHE is a talker.
If angels were EVER on her radar, I would know it.
The dream came from God, point blank period, hands down.
I knelt down and looked her in her eyes, which were now half way asleep.
I said: "Haven your dream is beautiful, and it definitely comes from God. I believe that God was answering your question about how he hears our prayers. Thank you for sharing with me."
I don't really have anything else profound to add to this.
I think that anyone who values how God communicates has already seen the beauty in what I've shared.
I hope that you feel encouraged to pray.
Send up some bubbles.
God is reading your bubble, and handing it off to a messenger to get the job done.
God Bless You All,