And We Stop

We stand across the kitchen island from each other, mixing up Christmas cookies. I have the real bowl and Little t has his own concoction of flour, salt, toilet paper, rice, etc.  We chat as we work. I am in the middle of explaining something when Little t’s excited voice breaks in.

“Pay! Pay! Pay!”

Sure enough, in the distance, I hear the mullah on the corner begin his call to prayer. This sound has become regular in my day. It blends in with the rest of the noise most of the time.  Early in our time here, I would stop and pr.ay for the hearts of those around me when I heard it. Those days of sacred moments spent pleading on their behalf seem to have fallen by the wayside…now that call is just noise that falls on my ear like all the rest.

But Little t is acutely aware of it these days and makes his observation known. 

I ask if he wants to pr.ay for his friends and he enthusiastically nods his head.  Every day we go through this routine the 3 or 4 calls to pra.yer that he is awake for.

So we stop mixing our bowls full of treasures to pr.ay for those around us.   

His little eyes squint closed and he starts: “Dear Jesus….”  The rest is a jumble of fervent words. 

A few seconds later he simply says, “Momma” signaling that it is my turn. 

I pray for our neighbors, our friends, kAkA and his family, etc.  

Little t nods his head and echoes my amen.  As we go on with our day, mixing and chatting, my heart is full.  So often I get caught up in the busyness of life in this place, but these moments are so good. 

I am so thankful for this little boy who reminds me many times a day of the urgency that our friends in this place live in.  I am challenged to pr.ay deeply in those simple moments for those around us who are lost and hurting.  What a gift to bring them before the throne of grace.  What a gift to be reminded by a child the value that lies in separating the sacred from the noise.