Out of the Mouths of Babes

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I'm a mother of three boys, ages 11, 9, and 3. There's never a dull moment around our house for sure. Over the years, I've learned that males aren't nearly as concerned with cleanliness as females, they tend to react first and think later, despite their steel exterior their feelings run deep, and though they rarely get along, they closely watch each other's backs. I've discovered that Legos are the greatest invention for entertainment and learning. I know that no matter how much I feed them they'll always be hungry an hour later, and a dinner free of bodily noises won't happen until I'm dead. But what I'm learning―and struggling with―the most is how much differently they think and perceive things than females.

Where I jump in and help mow grass, split wood, plant a garden, bleed brakes, and other dirty jobs, I often tease my husband that taking out the trash is a man's job. (Yes, I do take out the trash sometimes.) But as my three-year-old stated last week, it’s also God's job.

I woke the boys up to get ready for school and went straight to the kitchen to make coffee. My oldest son went into my youngest son's room after being called in there. The little guy wanted a hug before his brother left for school. My oldest mentioned he could hear Little Guy's heartbeat and let his baby brother listen to his heartbeat when Little Guy showed confusion over what a heartbeat was. After pulling away from his brother's chest, Little Guy said, "Hey, God's talking in there."

"What's He saying?" oldest son asked playfully.

"He's got a big trashcan in there, and He's getting ready to take out the trash."

Out of the mouths of babes. Our wonderful Savior, so willing to come into our heart and remove our trash. A never ending chore.

At some point, Little Guy has taken a Sunday school lesson or sermon and condensed it into something he could relate to, taking out the trash, as he sometimes does with his daddy. A chore a young girl probably wouldn't have compared to.

Another lesson learned: my husband and I aren't only teachers in our home. Sometimes we're the students.