There are certain moments I do not want to forget in life. (Others, like most of my week and my miserable failings to be anything but patient, are welcome to dissipate from my memory.)
But this moment, the one I want etched in my memory and blog, is my five year old begging me to tell him again and again and again and again my short description of his soccer success.
"I am so proud of you," I tell him as we lay in bed. I'm sure he needs to hear those words. Just a few hours earlier I was berating him for picking on his little brother, for whining, for not listening. His little soul is desperate for a proud mommy.
"Every time someone from the other team would be running towards the soccer goal, you would zoom ahead and stop them."
He beams. "Talk about that again," he requests.
I say it again. "The team would be running towards the goal and all of a sudden - boom - there would be super speedy Chuck to stop them from scoring."
He's radiant. "Can you tell me about that some more."
What else is there to tell? But I humor him and tell him yet again: "I saw the other team going for the goal but then before I knew it - whoa - there you would be running so fast to stop the ball!"'
He's nearly delirious with pride. His soccer medal he has declared is going to school with him tomorrow is next to his bed and his coach's award of best defensive player is still echoing through his ears.
Who knew one sentence could hold so much power? His requests continues. I tire of telling him long before he tires of hearing it and I finally need to kiss his forehead and say goodnight.
I'm reminded tonight of the power of life affirming words. They slip so easily down my throat rather than out my mouth and I rob the people around me of life giving strength.
"The power of the tongue is life and death" Proverbs 18:21. I know better than to hope to have a completely tamed tongue. But I whisper now a prayer to offer life, not death, to those around me.
