Praying Lessons From a 5-Year-Old

Part of my role as parent of my young daughters is teaching them about prayer.  This is what I chose to do when I chose to have my girls baptized and I do not begrudge every individual parent to make their own choice to do or not do this for themselves and their own unique family.  That said, when faced with the task, I actually took on the role of “prayer-teacher” quite hesitantly.  It is one thing to promise to do it – it is quite another to figure out where to jump in.

 It also makes you analyze your own childhood go-to prayer.  Mine was this:

Now I lay me down to sleep

(you know this one already, don’t you?  Not very original, I know…)

I pray the Lord, my soul to keep

If I should die (gasp!) before I wake

I pray the Lord my soul to take

If I should live another day (what do you mean IF??)

I pray the Lord to guide the way.

I’ve modified this prayer for my daughter because otherwise it’s too creepy and I don’t believe it is the best use of a child’s time to contemplate and worry about their own mortality in the scary monster-filled darkness like I used to.   Here’s the version I say with my daughter every night in bed

Now I lay me down to sleep

I pray the Lord my soul to keep

Let angels guide me through the night

And wake me with the morning light

Then I ask her who she wants to ask God to bless tonight and what she would like to thank God for and if there was anything else she wants to pray about.  This is the part, however, where I get to learn from her. 

I always thought that teaching your child to pray was a one-way street – my Yoda to her young Jedi (apologies to high school and college boyfriends for mixing two religions in that metaphor).  However, in handing down my childhood prayer as a benign starting point, she takes that framework into her child-wisdom and spins it into poetry.  I’m pretty sure God gathers the angels around an as if there is an old-timey radio show on whenever it’s a child’s prayer time.  In fact, when I lame out & forget to do a prayer with my daughter, I’m sure I can hear a resounding ‘Awwww, man!’ from above.  My daughter has a spiritual gift of prayer that I can see clearly and I look forward to encouraging it (mostly by getting out of the way) all her life.  

Here are some of the lessons I have been lucky enough to learn from her:

·         Sometimes your prayer has just gotta be sung

Of course we sing prayers at church and at gatherings all the time, but none of them are like her random-melody’d high-voiced, angel-ish offerings to God of all that is on her mind at the time.

·         Don’t forget to pray for yourself

At the end of her prayers, My daughter always says: “And also, please especially bless – really blessy-bless BLESS…MY-SELF.”  Of course, once we become adults, it is age-appropriate to be a little less narcissistic in the emphasis, right?  But she really loves herself.  And why shouldn’t she?  She’s fabulous!  God is in her.  And God is just as “in” all of us.

·         Don’t be shy about blessing God

I’m sure God appreciates it amid the 24/7 sea of special requests from everyone in the whole universe.   I picture God zapping God’s self in the face with the same blessing God has been dispensing for eons, nonstop, but, like the sprinkle of water in baptism, it feels refreshing and renewing and God smiles a little tender smile down at her in our little bed.

·         You don’t always have to be right

Many times, my daughter’s prayers are an inventory of all her toys, and I cringe.  “Please bless my stuffie, Pookie, my barbies, my American girl doll, my dollhouse, my bike…” etc. etc.  She doesn’t realize that it’s not the “correct” thing to pray for, but who is to say what is correct?  Every time she starts blessing all of her things, I blush in the dark, ashamed when I think of all the things that she has – all the crap that we buy that we don’t need when so any others are truly needy – how lucky we are and how spoiled we are by not being able to see it – and it motivates me to back off from the Target blitzkrieg for a while and keep things in perspective.  Give a little more offering (to church or other organizations) in lieu of our *blush* first-world Starbucks habit.

·         You don’t always have to understand what you are praying for

Once, my daughter prayed for Tent City.  We had just delivered care packages to a community of folks who live in tents and move their encampment from location to location – usually on church properties that give permission.  Most of the residents have jobs.  I assume that none of them can afford housing. It is January and the wind, the rain and the snow and other crazy weather is frequent.   My daughter prayed that the people of Tent City would all find homes because they didn’t have a house to stay in while they are waiting to find their houses, like when we stayed at Grandma & Grandpa’s house when we were looking.  Processing that new information in a way she could understand and then praying about it, even though she didn’t fully understand it is honest.  I pray for Tent City from the point of view of understanding what is going on for them, when I am totally wrong to think I have the answers.

·         Be lavish with your blessings

She prays for God to bless “everyone in the whooooole wide world”.  Indeed, dear child.  Indeed.

…And from my 2-year old:

·         Sometimes just holding the posture of prayer is enough

As we pray at the dinner table, my youngest daughter, who doesn’t say any prayers yet, will hold her hands folded while we all listen to my oldest daughter lead the prayer (or my husband or I).  As my youngest folds her messy food-crusted hands and steals sly glances around the table at all of us with closed eyes, I know that this is enough and sometimes silence and listening and witnessing prayer is the hardest skill to learn.  When I’ve asked her if she wants to say a prayer and I prompt her with ”thank you Jesus, amen” or a great sign language prayer I taught her, she shakes her head shyly, ‘no’.  That’s OK, baby-boo.  Your witness is enough and your time will come when you will feel moved to let your spirit spill out into words, song, dance, art, writing or whatever other way you choose to connect to God.  You are enough.  And so are we all.