"Pray for Jesus"

What she said wasn’t perfect— but it was powerful.

Children are sponges.

In the car this week on the way to gymnastics, my daughter said her stomach hurt. She’s three. I didn’t think too much of it, so I told her, “oh no!”

Then she said: “Pray for Jesus”— and I melted.

I melted because I knew what she meant to say was, “Pray to Jesus.”

For the last month or so, anytime she’s said something hurt (from a scraped knee to an ear ache), I’ve said, “let’s pray and ask Jesus to help you feel better.” I want her to know Jesus as her source of comfort and healing— so as she gets older and the potential for aches and pains (both physical and emotion) inevitably increase, she’ll already know where, and to Who, to turn.

In that moment, it was clear it had clicked for her. So much so, she’s reminding me to pray instead of me reminding her.

So we prayed. We said amen. I asked her if her tummy felt better, and in a way that encouraged my heart, she replied, “Not yet.” Not yet. Part of me expected her to say, “Yes, I feel all better now.” But how many times have we lived out the reality of "not yet"?