Taught by a child...

So Brian has my camera today--he's on call and was so excited to go to work this morning when he found out it was a gunshot wound to the foot that he was getting paged for. Took the camera so he could get a few "cool" pictures. And I have to admit, it does sound pretty exciting to me too. Not that the guy is hurt, but that it's a cool case to see and treat.

So, instead of a picture, you get a story from my journal today:

Tonight Jacob and Tyler wanted to play with play dough. I told Jacob more than once to make sure they only got out one color at a time, so they wouldn’t mix the colors. Jacob came in about 10 minutes later, telling me to come quick because Tyler had thrown the play dough all over the floor, and now Blake was picking it up and eating it. I picked up the trail of play dough leading back to the kitchen. Then noticed that there was not just one color, but three out, and two of them were totally mixed. I raised my voice at both of the boys. Unnecessary and silly looking back, but I did it. Jacob told me that he hadn’t seen Tyler making a mess or he would have told him sooner. I scolded him for not being very responsible with the play dough. Got after Tyler as well for making such a big mess. I apologized a little later for getting so upset about it. As I tucked Jacob in under his covers tonight, he wanted me to sing to him, as usual. I did for a little longer than normal. Then on my way out the door, he said, “Mom, I’m sorry about the play dough.” I told him it was ok and how proud I was of him for saying sorry. He added, “I was being honest, though. I didn’t mix the colors myself and I really didn’t see Tyler making the mess until I told you about it.” That melted my heart. I returned to the side of his bed, and hugged him and told him that I forgave him, not even to worry about it anymore. That I was so proud of him and loved him, and that I was sorry too for raising my voice at him. I asked him if we could forgive each other, and he said yes. I asked him if we could say a prayer and ask Heavenly Father to forgive us. He wanted to say it, so I held him and listened to his sweet prayer, “Heavenly Father, thank thee for this day, please forgive us for not being nice about the play dough. Help us to do better tomorrow and be nicer. In the name of Jesus Christ, amen.” Then he asked if we could still go to heaven, “because the people who are where the stars are (he took the explanation of the 3 degrees of glory very literally—that lesson was a LONG time ago) are there because they did some bad things, and the people on the moon did really bad things.” I told him that we can always repent and do better. I asked him where he thought people who had done something wrong and had made a mistake, but had repented, would go. And he said “they will go to heaven” (what he calls the celestial kingdom). He humbled me tonight. Reminded me that I need to be quicker to say “I’m sorry,” even if it wasn’t completely my fault. Once again—taught by a child.