Bryce: . . . thank you for the food. And, God, thank you for our super powers, and for Jesus dying on the cross for our sins . . .
Deacon: . . . and dear God, thank you for Mommy being beautiful, and thank you for providing work for Daddy, and Bryce and Deacon . . .
When I pray with the boys before meals, I usually say the same thing, pat, each time. Phil is a varier. The boys love to take turns praying and usually do my example with some McMurray flourishes. Sometimes the boys and I do a hand-squeeze thing, where I "assign" each of them an item and we go in a circle squeezing hands as cue.
It's so fun to feed men and boys. Even though when cooking for ladies' luncheons I get to make chick food, like fancy quiches or salad as the meal, those same similiarly-paletted-to-me moms also say things like, "Oh, just half a slice". The boys will request huge portions, "'Cuz mom, you want me to grow and get bigger muscles. Don't you?" Of course I do! Also, the ladies aren't too thrilled to find you've hidden a chocolate chip at the bottom of their yoghurt.
Peanut butter and Nutella are hugmongous treats around here. Not because they are by any means rationed, but each time they appear the boys react like I do when I discover that Grandma Greta arrived with her homemade Nanaimo Bars.
Reflecting just bit on their graces, I think the kids really understand Christianity at a "in bones" level: reference the truths you know, and then look to Christ and flourish with wild abandonment. You do have super powers.
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