Wednesday, August 21, 2013

The Blessings of the Bed

The following is a journal entry from 2004 . . .

This past weekend we got Hendrix a “big boy bed.”  Dad and I had taken Mom-ee and Pa-Pa’s first bedroom suit and saved it; Dad had marked it with some tape - “Hendrix Wilson.”  Hendrix and I borrowed a truck and went to get it last Friday.  He had talked about wanting a big boy bed for weeks.  “Daddy, I don’t want to sleep in a crib anymore; I want a big boy bed.”

He spent the night at Mom and Dad’s Friday night and Tracey and I put the bed together on Saturday.  We were sad taking the crib down.  That room held so many wonderful memories.  What a precious, fun three years.  We stood in his bedroom remembering bringing him home the first time into that room.  The placement of the room had not changed much in those three years.  How many nights I would sneak into his room after he was asleep, leaving the hall light on so that I could see him.  Standing by his crib, making sure he was covered (later he started putting his pillow over his head when he slept), stroking his hair and sometimes bending down and kissing his cheek.  Then, many times kneeling beside his crib and praying for him.  I would ask God to pour His Spirit out on my son, to fill His room, but mainly his life, with His presence.  Asking God to have His way in that boy’s life.  Asking God for grace and wisdom to be the daddy he needs.  I remember at times rocking him before putting him to bed.  Then we went through a stage this past year where first he wanted songs.  I would get face to face crib level with him, me on the floor, him laying down.  We would sing and sing – Frosty the Snowman, Rudolph, Jesus is a Rock, Jesus Loves Me, Amazing Grace, and Marvelous Grace.  I have tried to start teaching him that last hymn.  Sometimes he would say, “Sing grace, grace, Daddy.”  Then he tired of the songs and wanted stories.  We went through different phases.  For a while he loved Jonah and little boy Samuel.  Later Goldilocks and then Red Riding Hood.  Then he liked the story of the woman who was healed by touching Jesus’ cloak.  How I pray the life of these stories, the living presence of Jesus, will manifest Himself in his life.

The bed was a hit.  I picked him up Saturday and we talked about the bed coming home.  He was excited.  He was overjoyed when he saw it.  Saturday night I got in bed with him and you would have that the rapture had occurred.  Sunday morning he didn’t want to leave his room – he was sitting at the end of the bed all dressed up holding on to the post and just looking at the bed.  Sunday night when I got in bed with him he grabbed onto one arm and kept asking for stories.  When I tried to get up, he grabbed me with both arms and said, “Don’t go Daddy.  You stay in my bed with me.” 

Last night we got in bed and I told one story.  Then he looked at me and said dramatically, “We didn’t kneel in the den Daddy.  We have to go kneel in the den.”  So we got up and he went to find Tracey, who was in the bathroom.  He busted in and shouted, “We have to go to the den and kneel, Mommie.  We have to pray!”  After prayer (actually as I was closing) he was done and he got up and hurried off.  I asked him where he was going – he said, “To my room.”  He was ready for bed.

What a wonderful kid.

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