Virtually every morning I am home I begin the day with morning prayer. There is a white leather wingback chair in our living room I use as my prayer chair. It’s sort of what I like to call “camping out with the Lord.”
Every once in a great while, when I take some time for breakfast, I find myself wandering into the living room to eat my bowl of cereal. Well, a few weeks ago, one of our young granddaughters, Mallory, walked in to see what I was doing. At the time our son, his wife and their three daughters were living with us, while they were waiting to move into their new home. Mallory at age seven is the oldest.
When Mallory saw me sitting in the living room eating my breakfast, she proceeded to tell me in a somewhat scolding, I-know-what-I'm-talking-about kind of voice that I was not supposed to be eating my cereal in the living room. Admittedly a bit perturbed at her bold tone of voice, I told her (as calmly as I could) that I don't do this very often. She didn’t miss a beat and went on quickly to tell me again that I should be eating my cereal in the kitchen.
So I began to tell her (again as calmly as I could) that this is where I pray every morning and that sometimes it felt kind of good to be able to come in to the living room, sit in my prayer chair, and eat my cereal.
I said, “You know, Mallory, it’s kind of like eating with the Lord.” That somewhat amazingly seemed to satisfy her. She turned around and walked out.
It was a few days later…Wednesday afternoon, to be exact. As an aside, you need to know that I never really know what Wednesdays are going to bring my way, especially during the afternoon. You see, every Wednesday morning at 2 AM I go up to our local Catholic church and spend an hour in our Adoration Chapel praying before the Blessed Sacrament. If I don't get back to sleep quickly when I get home, sometimes I get a little tired later in the afternoon. (Others might tell you that I get a little cranky in the afternoon!)
So, that particular Wednesday afternoon I was tired and decided I would try to catch a short power nap in the living room. Mallory apparently walked in and saw me on the couch a few feet away from my prayer chair. She quickly turned around, hurried in to our family room and proclaimed in a somewhat loud voice to her mother and my wife, Judy, “Hey, guess what? Papa is sleeping with the Lord.”
I still smile when I think of her wonderful innocence to see sometimes what we can’t see. I suppose if you can pray with the Lord and eat with the Lord, then you can sleep with the Lord, too. Amen +++