Noah and Goliath

My son tears through the house with his cape on. I still see a chubby-cheeked baby, but he is not. He is Superhero Noah. He is Thor, defeating the villains, Spiderman protecting his home from invaders.

When I sit him down to practice his letters, he frowns. Even S for Superhero doesn’t capture his attention.

“I need to get the bad guys, Mommy.”

I admit, I have concerns about him starting school in the fall. Is he ready? His legs don’t want to be tamed, they want to run, they want to pedal his bike…he is energy wrapped up in uncontrolled blond hair and smears of ketchup.DSCF1156

He does love books though. He will soak in a story—sitting still—and learn from any kind of adventure, especially if there is some kind of battle.

But if it’s not akin to The Very Hungry Dinosaur or Tyson the Terrible, he has no interest in learning the traditional way.

We read about David. David is a superhero for sure—small guy beats huge giant—Noah is all kinds of excited about that.

Something pops out at me about this story so I dig into it a little more—I even open a book I had waiting on my kindle and begin making my way to the heart of this small King, because no matter how often I have heard about him, flannel-board memories keep popping up and it loses something.

Until I focus on the slingshot.

It’s the slingshot. David doesn’t bat an eye at the seasoned soldiers or worry about his lack of experience. He doesn’t even consider that he doesn’t have a sword like everyone else has.

He hasn’t been schooled in battle. He is a harp-playing Shepherd.

I don’t think he cares about what he lacks. No—he draws upon who his God is, and the tools that God has placed before him and pulls out all he has.

Thump. He kills Goliath with a child’s toy.

I’ve decided not to worry about Noah (as long as I think of David). Because God gave him those busy legs and fighting spirit, and somehow, somewhere down the road, he will face a giant. And hopefully he will remember who God is. Hopefully he will remember that who he is and what he has is more than enough.

What’s your slingshot? Tell us in the comments.

Kingdom Armor

Sometimes, waking to a dark house is not just a dark house. Sometimes, in the deep of night when the stars have rocked our home to sleep, a foe slips in. Melding into our dreams, it shapes them into nightmares, shaking us awake.

One by one, we all search for sleep again. I tuck my little girl back in first, and being a discerning soul, she always requests an extra prayer on these nights.

Next, comes my son. I usually have to cuddle with him until he slips back into the land of nod or else he won’t find rest.

As I lay there, things drip. The house cracks and the scratching noises in the laundry room is not the cat for he sleeps deeply on the couch as twenty-year-old cats do. The dogs outside sense the foe and growl, announcing its presence to the neighborhood.

I can’t settle my legs. Despite my exhaustion, the foe thrusts his blade into the air, whipping up a battle that most people blame on the full moon.

It’s not.100_3745

I pray and put on my armor. I guard my son until I feel peace because he has not yet found his own armor.

Boys need a special kind of Knight Light, for their battleground is a fierce one.

My son slips into even breaths and I lift my request to the King.

“Please let my son take up his armor soon. And let his Knight Light never dim.

Let it shine bright when it’s time for him to take a stand.
Let it not wane when a damsel tries stand in front of it.
Let it shine fierce if he or his fellow Knights get lost in the battle.
Let him keep it securely in place, so it doesn’t get snuffed out.

And lastly, let him never try to replace it with a generic version.”

Rom 13:12 (NIV) The night is almost gone, and the day is near. Therefore let us lay aside the deeds of darkness and put on the armor of light.