September 24: Still Pretty Early, My Son Holden, a Prayer

It was still pretty early.  I'm not sure what time it was, but it wasn't too late.  The one thing I hate to do is go to bed when I'm not tired...

Holden sounds a lot like my four-year-old son in the passage above.  My son hates bedtime.  He will stall sleep any way he can.  He asks for a cookie, a piece of string cheese, a drink of water.  He gets up and goes to the bathroom.  He says he's not feeling well or that the bed is moving by itself.  Even if my son is exhausted, bed is the last place he wants to be.

I think my son is Holden Caulfield.  My son told me this evening that he "wants to be bad" to everyone in kindergarten.  I could almost hear him saying that his teacher is a big phoney.  He's being difficult simply for the sake of being difficult.  And he's only in kindergarten.  He can be a good student.  He was a good student for the last two years.  A leader, even.  Suddenly, he's the Holden Caulfield of his class.  Picking fights.  Calling people names.  Getting closer and closer to expulsion.

I pray every night and morning my son will behave.  The problem is that, once he's on that bus, he's on his own.  He makes the choices all day, and the choices he's been making have been pretty poor.  I don't expect or want him to be a conformist, but, for God's sake, I'd like him to at least not commit any felonies when he's out on the playground.

And that's what my prayer is about today.

Dear God,

Hi.  It's me again.  How's Your Son?  I hope He's doing well.  That whole crucifixion thing was a real shame.

Speaking of sons, I'd like to ask You a little favor.  Tomorrow morning, when my son goes off to school, could You please help him stay on the straight and narrow?  I don't expect him to be perfect.  That's impossible.  Well, maybe not for Your Son, but You know what I mean.  I just want him to maybe listen, follow directions, not kick the girl at the desk next to him.  I don't think that's too much to ask, is it?

I'm giving my son up to You tomorrow.  Watch out for him, please.  He's a good kid.  He really is.  And he has a good heart.  Help him.  Guide him.  Keep him safe and happy.

Let go.  Let God.  That's going to be my motto.  He's all Yours tomorrow.

Your loving child,

Saint Marty

My son's motto