“Mama, we are so lucky to have this warm day so we can play in the park,” the six year old voice exclaimed as her hair trailed behind her on the swing’s descent, all giggles and pink and sugar and spice.

“No, babe, we aren’t lucky.  We’re blessed,” I answered.

The pumping stopped.  The swing slowed.  The face befuddled.

“No, mama, we’re lucky!  Just like the leprechauns!” she stated in her one day-past St. Patrick’s Day wisdom.

And just like that I found myself with the priceless opportunity of the teachable moment, a conversation that wasn’t necessarily in today’s lesson plan but then, really, are they ever?  As a former elementary teacher, I know the best lessons occur in the empty box of a plan book, the space that is free to be filled by safety, a safety that inevitably invokes honesty and an honesty that leads to what’s true.

“Sis, I don’t believe in luck.  I believe that all the good stuff that happens is a blessing from God,”  I clarified.

I’m sorry, Mr. Leprechaun.  I just don’t buy it.

There are no “just-by-chance.” No coincidences. No “luck.”

But there is evidence that He exists more times that I can count each day…A warm March day after a long and cold Midwestern winter.  Swings.  Ditching normal dinner time and playing outside instead.  The squeals of delight when I answer “yes” to ice cream.  The tired child walking sheepishly towards me and folding perfectly into my lap, a lap made just for him.

Not luck.  Blessings.

“The Bible tells us that “every good and perfect gift is from above, (James 1:17, NIV),” I continue. “Would you say today is good and perfect?”

She nods.  The swing has stopped.

“Then it’s a blessing and not luck,” I reply and we move on to the bumblebee bouncer.

Click here to read the rest of the story…

Also joining with Jen at Finding Heaven Today for the Soli Deo Gloria Sisterhood…



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