Have I ever shared with you how my oldest son became a Christian? No? Well let me tell you it was a highly spiritual experience, ranks right up there with Paul’s conversion. OK maybe not that drastic, in fact it was just an ordinary day. But I think the Lord gave me that day as a gift, not only for my son (which is the obvious gift of salvation), but a gift to me, his mother.

Despite being faithless He is faithful.

My oldest son was around 10 years old which makes my middle child 8 and my youngest around 6 years old. They were at the stage of perpetual motion (which I believe we have never left), but it was before they were in organized sports. That never-stopping, always in motion kind of energy worn me out daily. So when I woke up one Sunday morning the last thing I had energy to do was dress for church, feed, and play referee for my kids. They needed a place to run and be boys, in return I may get a moment’s peace/sanity. So instead of heading to church after breakfast I packed up some snacks, packed my latest trashy novel I was reading, buckled the squirmy kids in their car seats and made a beeline to the park.

I had been talking to my oldest son about Jesus; in fact I tried to fit it in every day conversations. He was getting old enough to understand what Jesus did for him and I began talking about what it meant to accept Jesus at our Savior. Mind you, we were NOT talking about Jesus that Sunday morning. The boys were talking among themselves, excited to play at the park, and I was quietly praying the park would be empty so I could turn my boys loose without worry they would hurt anyone. As a mother of all boys, who are “100% boy” and who love to climb, jump, and conquer every last step of the play set, you worry more about them hurting another child in their zeal then you do about them hurting themselves. At least I did.

Praise God the park was empty. I unpacked each of their juice cups so they could run get a drink (without bugging me) when they were tired, I unpacked my trashy novel (this was what I read during this period of life, I no longer read them), and I told the boys the playground is all theirs.

Run, conquer, and wear yourself out!

My two younger boys were playing hard, but my oldest was swinging and then I saw him sitting down on a curb like he was seriously thinking about something. I was only kind of paying attention because I was getting to the really good part in my book; plus I was here to collect some sanity. Next thing I know my oldest son came to find me on the park bench where I was reading. “Mom?” “What honey?” I asked feeling weary. “How do I get Jesus in my heart?”

I froze, “What did you say?”

My son said, “I want Jesus in my heart, how do I ask Jesus in my heart.” You would think as a Mother my very first thought would be jumping up for joy and celebration. No my first thought was Lord is this you making me feel guilty because I am not in church! Can you tell I was in a highly spiritual mood that day?

After asking a few more questions I realized my son was serious. We talked about what it means to live according to God’s way, the sacrifice that Jesus made on the cross, and how he rose again. These were all topics we had discussed before, but he never wanted to make a personal commitment. Until that day.

It is funny how during the times when we as parents feel we are being spiritual and teaching our children about God, they sometimes don’t respond in the way we hope. And during the times when we are tired, weary, and God is far from our mind, that is when we end up teaching our children the most about God.

My son came to know Christ as his Savior that day, and soon after baptized.  If you asked him today when he became a Christian he could tell you about the day at the park. His salvation was not something this Mother did, it was God speaking into his heart and my son chose to respond.

So why was that day a gift to me?

Well now that son is a teenager and as a Mom there have been good days and VERY hard days. There are days when my boys don’t respond to spiritual teachings as I hope, but then there are days I see progress.

As mothers we like to think if we pray hard, make sure to do the right things, say the right words, then our children will turn out OK. They will not make any of the “big” mistakes we fear the most as parents.

I am learning all over again—just as I learned that day at the park—my son will follow Christ as a result of God speaking into his life and he choosing to respond. It will not be because I am faithful and do all the right things. On most good days I still feel like I am the most faithless follower of Christ. I struggle with faith, I struggle with standing strong, I struggle with being a good Mom, but I have found….

despite being faithless He is faithful.

During the difficult days I grab on to that gift God gave me at the park and I remember God works through all circumstances. And in the end it will be He who receives all the glory, not my stellar mothering/teaching skills (ha! said sarcastically).