One lego out of a thousand. That was the challenge my six-year-old requested my help with yesterday morning, and the search was on. This one specialty piece was crucial in the building of his lego castle.
I searched all the pieces. Twice. Three times. We both looked. I took out his big lego box and searched through all those pieces.
"I don't know, James. I'm sure it'll turn up eventually." I couldn't spend my entire day looking for one lego piece, after all.
"Mommy, I'm going to pray," he said, confidence in his tone.
I love when he does this, turns to God with that precious childlike faith. But I have to admit, I stifle the urge to warn him. We just looked. God probably won't answer his prayer. I want to protect his budding faith. I don't say anything, but bow my head in prayer with him as he beseeches the Lord with his urgent request. I suppose he'll have to learn sometime that the Lord doesn't always answer prayers in the affirmative.
After he finishes, I tell him I'll look on the bookshelf where we store the lego kits. Maybe it fell out.
I hadn't made it but five steps before he yells, "I found it!"
Right where I had looked before. Three times.
And once again, I am ashamed of my little faith...and in awe of my child's.