In front of my kids.
Shamelessly.
This morning started off with such hope. I got a call to substitute teach, flew into high gear, and was headed out the door about the same time as the kids. The middle joked about how maybe we should have a group prayer. I said, "Go for it."
And go for it he did.
I don't know if many out there know the experience of having your almost sixteen-year old son place his hand on your shoulder and pray, but I am here to tell you, money can't buy that. He didn't quote scripture or use fancy words. He just spoke from his heart and about had my make-up ruined by the time he was done.
God only knows what would've happened if he hadn't said that prayer.
I'm not going to go into a lot of detail because that wouldn't do anybody any good, but all I could hear in my head the entire day were the words of a very wise preacher, "When the kids are out of control, they are in control," and out of control they were.
Enough said.
Except for one thing.
I came home and told the kids about my day. We reminisced about my early years of teaching and how things use to be. They told me some of their own stories from their public school experiences (only a few years into it) and gave me some solid, sound advice. I don't always listen, but I recognize wisdom when I hear it. And somewhere in the middle of all that, I cried.
They offered kleenex.
They sat silent.
They understood.
The rich can keep their riches.
I've got plenty.
Blessed are those who fear the LORD,
who find great delight in his commands.
Their children will be mighty in the land;
the generation of the upright will be blessed.
Wealth and riches are in their houses,
and their righteousness endures forever.
Psalm 112:1-3
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