Shaping Faith at Bedtime

“C’mon guys, time for bed.”  My comment is greeted with the usual groans and dramatic complaints. 

  

“Daaa-aaad, its still early!” one insists.  Since when is 9pm early, I wonder, stifling a yawn.  With coaxing that ranges from nudges to threats, the kids finally brush their teeth and put on their pj’s.  Then my nine and almost four-year olds pile onto mom and dad’s bed for our nighttime ritual.

My wife and I aren’t experts at this, but we’ve come to believe that we are our kids’ first encounter with God’s love, and their first examples of what it means to be a Christ follower. 

That’s scary stuff.  One look in the mirror and I’m praying God will work in their lives, despite me. But, there they are, on the bed, awaiting our usual ritual: two questions and a prayer.

“What was your least favourite part of the day – was there anything you really didn’t like?”  My daughter tells about how she didn’t get to scrapbook with her mom.  Didn’t you go shopping with her instead, I think to myself, but I hold my tongue.  This isn’t a time for judgment.  We simply acknowledge that must have been disappointing.  This is a time when we let hard feelings have a voice. 

My son tells the story of falling and scrapping his knee.  A subtle glance at his bare knees shows there’s no scrape.  I think he just wants to be part of this time.

“Was that for real or pretend, bud?”  I ask.  He assures me its for real.  This isn’t the time to lecture him on the value of telling the truth.  He’s using his imagination to be part of this experience.  His effort affirms that the question we’ve asked is important enough to warrant him telling a story.

“Ok, so what about your favourite part of the day?” I ask.  This second question is my favourite.  I’m regaled with stories of going to the park, or playing with friends, or spending time as a family.

“What was yours?” my daughter always responds. 

“Umm, being here with you guys,” I say.  I know its bit corny, but its true.  Those few moments at the end of the day are some of my favourite ones.  Ever.

After we’re done with the two questions, we pray, a different person praying each night. We say “thank-you” for the good things, and pray about the hard things. The prayers are simple, yet heartfelt.

Its taken some time to get to this place, and I’m sure those times will change as the kids grow up.  It’s also not an every night occurrence.  Sometimes, the summer sun has gone to bed before the kids have, and we’re scrambling to carry their limp bodies with smirking faces up to bed.

But I think its important that we keep coming back to it.  Here’s why:

1. It teaches that prayer, talking with God, is normal.

Prayer doesn’t have to be what we do when we’ve run out of other options; it can be more than the last cry of a desperate person.  It can be a lifestyle where we acknowledge God with us, Giver of Good gifts, Comforter in our tough times.

If my kids experience this most evenings, I hope they will develop a worldview where talking with God is perfectly normal and healthy.

2. Its teaches the skills of looking through our day for the good, and giving thanks for it

Life brings to us far more than we can possibly attend to consciously.  So, we are constantly selecting the things we’ll notice, the memories we’ll keep. Whether we see the glass half empty or half full depends on what we chose to notice. 

   

If anyone is like me, than seeing the darker stuff comes easily.  I can often end my day recalling the projects I didn’t finish, the words I regret saying, the actions I wish I’d done differently.  It’s a skill to look for the good.

And look for it we should. 

If God is present at all times (and many of us believe that goes with the whole “omnipresent” thing), then there is good in most circumstances because our good God is there. Finding God, dwelling on the good, giving thanks for it, is life-giving.  It’s an assurance that God will never leave nor forsake, and that the One from whom every good and perfect gift comes, is present with us.  The proof?  We’ve seen our good God at work.

3. It teaches that parents are a safe place to talk about hard stuff

My daughter was bullied not too long ago.  When I asked what the least favourite part of the day was, she hummed and hawed.  When she grows quiet, I know something is wrong!

We pushed just a bit; waited just a bit.  It came out that some kids had done some really mean things to her.  That question became the opportunity for us to talk with her about that event.

I hope that as they both age, the habit of asking and answering these questions, of being able to share happy and yucky feelings, will instill a belief that mom and dad can be trusted; that we’re a safe place to talk.

  

This is what’s working in our home.  I’d love to hear what’s working in yours.