Kristen

Yesterday was my oldest boy's "Momma Day". His school provided a special price for Hockey tickets to go with their reading incentive this month and Sweet Boy#1 caught the Hockey Bug. "Hockey?" I queried. "Are you sure?" Yes, he was absolutely certain that he wanted to attend a real live semi-pro hockey game.

This month he was supposed to have his "Daddy Day" but The Hunky Hubby works on the weekends and could not take him. I was going to tell him no, but I happened to be volunteering on the last day to turn in your money. They announced the hockey game over the intercom and Sweet Boy#1 gave me this secret little smile. He wanted to go. And then they said that it was the final day and his face just fell. He knew I had not decided and didn't have my money. He schooled his features into a blank and quietly faced forward in class. And that was when I fell apart inside. He really wanted to go and was being so grown up about his disappointment.

I called The Hunky Hubby in a flurry of tears and we switched his "Daddy Day" with his "Momma Day". And so there I was, scheduled to attend a Hockey game. Would he actually like the event once we got there...would I? I mean it would be cold and loud and long and late and we would be surrounded by drunk people shouting things at the refs. Sweet Boy#1 is my cerebral child. The one who plugs his ears if the worship band is too loud at church and worries that he might get 500 AR reading points at school and be forced to get an award.

He absolutely loved it.

With his sno-cone and giant pretzel in hand my little guy followed the antics of Walt the Wild Wolf with the devotion of a true fan and delighted in every flight of the camera blimp. Although he refused to make silly faces for the blimp-cam or do the wave, he clapped and shouted "Let's go Wild" along with Walt the Wolf and even jumped up and cheered when our team got the final goal to win the game.

A friend and I are going through the book of James and I noticed some bits that could be useful when mixed with my feeble attempts at parenting. I tell my boys that I love them every single night. I plan a "Momma Day" with each one every year. I tell them that I want to do something just with them, that they like. But Hockey?

James 2:17--"In the same way, faith by itself, if it is not accompanied by action, is dead."

There is a reason that God is so insistent about us considering the needs of others above our own. It is desperately important. I can't just tell my boys that I love them, I need to live love for them. By reading them stories at night, turning off the TV, going sledding, telling them sit down and stop swinging their grandpa's binoculars around like a morning star in battle, and occasionally by braving a crowd of shouting fans with sloshing beer and spending 2 and 1/2 hours watching hockey.

Thank you Lord for how you teach us.





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