From the moment he walked out his bedroom door this morning, he was full of joy and had a story to tell. A tale that he quickly rattled off the whole time Daddy fed brother. A story that continue for the next hour and a half with only pauses for breaths. There was no conversation, just a storyteller and his audience. Sweet and perky and full of spirit. Joy exuded from all his pores.
And what did this mama do?
I caught myself tuning him out. His ramblings were wearing me out.
Of course, he kept talking. Sharing specific traits about all his characters. Breaking down the events into the smallest of details.
Desperate for a moment. Just a moment to get my thoughts straight without an interruption. A moment free of distractions from what I was trying to accomplish. I couldn’t handle it any more.
So, what did I do?
Asked him to turn on the music.
But only for a moment. He continued his monologue the rest of the day.
Talking, chatting, gabbing, babbling, ranting, blah-blah-blahing.
My only breaks…snack, lunch and quiet time. By the end of the day, my patience was gone.
But a lot more was gone too…
I missed a big opportunity. An opportunity to create with my son.
He so desperately wanted to create a good story, but his lack of a storyline and a point of conflict made me grow tiresome of his chatter. I should have stopped. With a little help and direction, we could have created a tale like no other.
Lord, help me do better tomorrow.