Since becoming a mom, I think my dad has mentioned the following observation, oh, I don't know, at least several hundred times: "Everything about our relationship with our children is designed to teach us about our own relationship with God."
As many of you already know, Weston has an extraordinary love for Ghostbusters. He was a Ghostbuster for Halloween (along with Jason). But that was really only the beginning. Weston is a ghostbuster pretty much wherever he goes! When his proton pack needs repair (or when his flight suit has been temporarily confiscated as a result of misbehavior), he does turn into his alter-ego, Spiderman, for awhile. But to Weston, nothing is as great as busting ghosts!
For the past week or two Weston has been on a real Spiderman kick, so I haven't given much thought to Ghostbusters lately (a welcome break, I assure you)! When Weston asked where his flight suit was a couple of days ago, I was confident it was hanging up in a closet, or maybe stuffed in the bottom of a hamper. It didn't seem to be in any of the usual places so yesterday we decided to make a point of finding it. First Jason looked. Then I looked. Then we all looked... for over an hour we searched in every nook and cranny of our house, to no avail. We thought maybe it had accidently ended up in one of the bags of old clothes that recently got dropped off at the DI. Every few minutes during the intense search, Weston would go to his room, drop to his knees, and say another prayer that we would find his ghostbuster uniform.
Finally, I was getting kind of worried. I actually felt a little sick to my stomach at the thought of some kid paying $3 for a flight suit that meant the world to my son (I also didn't like the idea of some random kid sporting a costume with the name GLASS on it)! So, I said a prayer. After the prayer I looked up in the closet where Sophie's backpack was hanging. It looked a little full so I decided to open it up and...voilà! There is was!
Today while Sophie was napping I had a rare uninterrupted moment with Weston. I cuddled him on my lap (which is getting increasingly difficult to do), and told him how much I love him and am proud of him. We then had the following brief exchange:
Weston: "Mommy, why did you pray for me to find my flight suit?"
Me: "Because it was important to you, and I LOVE YOU!"
As soon as the words came out of my mouth, the thought came to my mind: If it is important to me, it is important to God, because he loves me! I already know this in my brain, but it seemed to sink more deeply into my heart. I love my kids so intensely and so deeply. How is it possibly that God loves me just as much, and in fact, more? I don't know, but I am grateful that he does.