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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