“momma, can I pray for you?”
After a recent bout of sudden sickness that knocked me on my always moving feet, I started to really acknowledge the little prayer warrior that is growing up before my eyes…
Kyre Grace a.k.a. Gracie poo loves talking to Jesus. She many times will ask for double prayers at night time which isn’t motivated by the normal stall bedtime routine. Her heart genuinely longs to talk to Jesus, someone that she can’t physically see or touch yet when there is worship music on you can guarantee she is singing along, and better yet dancing to .
I often wonder what it must have been like for the girls as they grew in my tummy during my years in music ministry. Did the vibrations from my guitar rattle their developing ears, make their skinny little legs desire to move along to each note as it was being played for our Abba father? What was it like to all of a sudden experience loud music and hear their momma belt out songs of praise every Sunday?
Gracie loves to lay hands on you when praying, she asks Jesus to heal many people. She will start to pray as soon as the family is gathered around the table for our family meals. Good luck trying to take over family prayer time, she will always take the lead. I have even heard her ask the darkness to go away…
“momma, I want to go see…”
If you have made an impression on this little one’s heart, then she will ask to go and see you. If she knows that you are on the agenda to visit then she will run and squeal and pick out her best outfit and will look in the mirror and say “perfect”…humility at its finest.
There have been times when she will specifically ask for someone randomly and won’t relent. In the past, I didn’t put weight to the desires of the 3 yr old’s social time. Then an event took place a month ago. We had received some scary news that a family friend was in an accident. “Lucky” is a term most would use, “divine intervention” is one this family will use. The news came at night time, kids were already tucked in bed. I called Richard to the living room, broke the news and we stopped, held hands and prayed over this family. With heavy hearts we went to bed and hoped to hear some good news. Midmorning, Kyre out of nowhere asked to see her little friend, not knowing he was in the hospital. She has quite a few friends she gets to see regularly, but she only requested this one friend and didn’t like hearing no. Richard and I did not talk about the accident AT ALL around the kids that morning, I know that God had placed this child on her heart.
NOW, after not acting on this sooner, I am convicted to stop what I am doing when a request or question is made about someone by her and listen to see if her un-jaded discernment is kicking in.
“Ya’el, NO ma’am!”
I honestly questioned if Kyre was ever going to recover from being replaced. Out of all of my kids, I still don’t have one that needs me more then her. I honestly wondered if she was going to be able to love Ya’el and not hold her birth against her. It was soon apparent that we actually needed to watch Gracie around Ya’el because she thinks she is the second momma to her. Since the two of them share a room now that we bought our home, their friendship is growing. Many mornings we find Ya’el buried in books due to mommy or daddy not coming and getting them soon enough. When night time comes and we say goodnight, some nights Ya’el disagrees with lights out. You will hear Kyre try to comfort her and tell her “it’s ok baby” and then when that doesn’t work “Ya’el No ma’am”, just to find it quiet shortly after the firm command is given.
We prepared Gracie too soon for this trip. After two recent trips that left her on the other-side of the island waving goodbye to momma, I assured her she would be going on the next trip. Well, I said that a few months ago and ANY mention of birthday or Seattle, ends with her telling EVERYONE she is going to be four in Se-lattle. Persistence runs deep in this child. Unlike her two other siblings that fall into the perfectionist category and struggle making mistakes like their momma, this one will keep working at something until she gets it right. Thank goodness she got this trait from her dad! Even though nothing special is taking place on our trip this week other than doctor appointments, she is just so excited she isn’t going to be left behind. Our plan is to take her to Yeti Yogurt so she can have Dairy free ice-cream and pick all her own toppings. That is going to be best part of this trip, seeing her eyes light up and be able to eat ice-cream that she can have!
“I love you”
Kyre’s passion is like a fire. God is teaching me this. I know that each one of my kids won’t respond the same way, techniques will have to vary with each of them, I can’t put them in a box. I will admit, I do this. I will find a tip, trick, process that is successful and then become completely frustrated when the other one doesn’t reciprocate. Well, Kyre can be described as a fire. Really. We were telling a pregnancy story to a friend, about my ability to handle spicy foods that I found bland, while my husband sat across the table sweating and drinking glasses of milk. Immediately our friend said with assurance “that was with Kyre wasn’t it”.
God wants me to see that the fire he has put inside her is tended in a way that makes sure the flames won’t erupt and consume the kindling needed to keep it going. He also doesn’t want me to disregard it and take momentary heat as a sign that I can just walk away and not look after it.
Does this make sense?
I was recently convicted during some quiet time in the house that I have been living this analogy with Kyre. I have said in past blogs that she is just like her daddy. I still stand by that, but I am having to humble myself and realize she is becoming more and more like me. We both crave solitude. It rejuvenates us, we come out of intentional quiet time and we have a bounce in our steps and can pour into those around us. One day after checking off the final thing on my list of to dos, I realized that Kyre and I had barely interacted that day and it was naptime. We had rushed the older ones off to school, I was powering through laundry, cleaning the house and working on worship. I felt a tug in my heart. Conviction laced with a little condemnation. It became apparent that here are two independent souls living under the same roof, spending our days in our own heads.
Richard will come home from lunch and hear the broadway show that is coming from the playroom as she acts out and sings whatever is going on in her head. I won’t forget the first time he heard this. He asked, “is it like this all the time?” I laughed and told him,” yup!”
I am still trying to figure out the right way to approach this new revelation. I know that I can’t walk away from her and just think the fire is going to keep burning without me adding to it. So now I am going to God and trusting the Holy Spirit to tell me when I am banking on a strength in her ability to not need me interacting 24/7. I need him to show me how to foster that strength, ability to rest in quiet, to not fill time and space with empty things, to not need others to get through the day. BUT I need to be careful that I am attainable to her when she needs interaction and not brush her aside either.
“she just hugged me”
I lose track of how many times I get told this. I have watched her walk over to another table at McDonalds (don’t judge, my dad loves treating the grandkids there) and hug the elderly person in the chair. Not a side hug with a pat on the back, a real hug. You know, arms wrapped tight and you will hear a grunt as she does it. Then her little angelic face lights up as she looks up and smiles at the stranger. Don’t get me wrong, this makes me uncomfortable at times, thankfully it has never been inappropriate. I watch the older lady melt in her arms, her expression changing from pure shock to utter joy… I want to believe a little healing takes place.
I watched her do this at a funeral, march right up and hug a family member in the middle of the service, at the exact moment they needed it. I was kindly assured that she was doing what God called her to do after talking to the person.
She wrapped around the legs of the VERY quiet and at times grumpy old neighbor we had for 6 yrs. We were saying a goodbye in a sense and after the initial shock wore off I watched his shoulders relax, a smile I have never seen grace his face and a gentle pat on her head.
November 12, 2011 seems like so long ago. I am not struggling with time passing, I have, since the moment of her conception been learning a lot about myself. Her life was a gift that I still can’t explain or give enough justice, even when I am sitting here writing about her. She entered the world on a cold winter day. I found peace as the snow began to fall and was able to bundle her up in a white bear bunting suit my dear friend had sent to welcome her to the world. We held her close, breathed in her brand new life smell. Giggled at her strawberry blonde hair and couldn’t believe God had snuck her in to our plans.
4 yrs ago, Kyrene Grace Harney entered the world, entered our hearts and entered into a place that needed a child that isn’t afraid to pray boldly, who leans into the ones God presses on her heart, who has looked past herself and has loved her siblings in ways that amaze us, who won’t neglect those in need of Jesus’s love and is willing to be the catalyst and more importantly who is continually teaching me what HIS grace means.
Happy birthday Gracie Poo, I praise God for the little lady you are becoming and for the sweet little soul you have been created to have. I pray that I will keep that fire burning brightly for our Abba father and that I will make sure I find ways to daily connect with you in a way your quiet little soul craves.