Sunday mornings in a pastor’s family are the stuff of legend. Besides having to feed, wash, and dress everyone, we are also expected to actually get to church on time. In our family, this means that my husband and I usually end up driving separately (our apologies to planet earth).
This last Sunday was no different. My husband had already left with our two boys, leaving my daughter behind with me as I finished getting ready. For some reason, I was feeling a bit spiritually disheveled that morning and so I did something I’ve never done before in my life. I asked my daughter to read to me while I was doing my hair and makeup.
It went something like this:
“Phoebe, get your Bible and come here to my bathroom. Now, open it. What day is today? … I know it’s Sunday. What day of the month is it? … The 12th? Okay. Find Psalms and read me chapter 12.”
So much for intentional parenting. Thankfully, God is always intentional, and in the next few moments, my baby-girl-turned-fourth-grader read me words of life and hope.