Last night I discovered the silver lining to the “terrible twos”.  If you’ve ever had a toddler you know the fury they impart to just about every minute of the day.  My youngest son, Cole, is no exception.  Pure sweetness and hilarity one minute, fierce flesh the next.  I’ve often cried out in the middle of a long day, wondering what in the world this phase of childhood could ever be useful for.  Last night, he blessed me with a new perspective on his strong will and determination.

After having an in impromptu family movie night one would think a child would feel fortunate to just have been given a few generous moments of wake time.  Not Cole.  It is necessary, for the sake of status quo I suppose, to pitch a limp fit at bedtime.  After being chided by Daddy to make his way up the stairs Cole continued to assert that Mama was the only one who could convince him towards bed.  (Insert Irony: Mama attempted such convincing only hours prior at naptime with no avail.  Thus, neither Daddy nor Mama was buying the argument).  Having dealt with the whining all day, on top of a fever and soar throat, I opted to let Daddy “prod” with a mite of satisfaction in my heart.  After dosing meds for his sinus problems (and, let’s be honest, for a prayer of deep sleep for the whole house) I kissed him goodnight and headed to Isaac’s room to repeat the ritual.  Hopefully you can pity my annoyance when I exited the eldest room only to hear Coley Bear crying.  I decidedly opened the door with intent for punishment, assuming he was going to use some lame excuse like “I don’t want go bed” or, my personal favorite, “I need go pee pee”.  I just was not in the mood.

“What, Cole?  What is the problem?” I barked.

Defense diffused into guilt when I sensed the sincerity of tonight’s dilemma.

“I don’t want du debul in my bed”.

Timeout: before any of you go getting all judgmental about why my two year old even knows anything about “du debul” let me assure you it was not a haphazard dialogue.  I have thought long and hard about when would be the appropriate time to introduce either of my children to the concept of The Evil One.  Trouble is, you can’t throw too much past a kid without them cluing in.  You can’t ask your kids to memorize Psalms 23 without somehow needing to assign blame for “the valley of the shadow of death”.  Furthermore, we are moving to Africa; the Mecca of spiritual warfare.  I have made great effort to suit up for the coming battle and I finally decided my children needed a Sword as well.  So, naturally, they need to have a clear understanding of just who The Enemy is and a bit of knowledge to his battle plan.  Obviously, I was taking a risk.  My kids could totally misunderstand and be captured by fear (as we all are occasionally, if he’s doing his job, right?).  But, I have prayed and prayed that my boys would see past their fear and find their Authority in Christ.  So, you can imagine my jubilation when Cole offered me a glimpse into his preparedness.

“Cole,” I said tenderly, “What do you need to do if you want the devil to leave?”

Everything in me wanted to offer the answer so as to assure him of his safety.  But I waited quietly for an indication of his understanding.

“I haff a talk bout God and haff a talk bout my verses”.

Someone should tell the NFL to consult me as the choreographer for the Superbowl Touchdown dance!  My heart exploded and I just wanted to break out into a jive that would embarrass me if the lights were on.  But mostly, I wanted to shout: “HA, debul…IN YOUR FACE!!  This child is locked and loaded and two years old!!” 

“Coley, you are exactly right”, I said quietly and completely composed.  “How about if you and Mommy say Psalm 91, okay?” (Thanks for the ammo, Miss Nancy!!)

“Yah, cuz dat makesa debul scared and GO WAY” he said in his most assertive tone.

“It sure does, son.  You Ready?”

“Yah..you go firs”.

“Those who live in the…

shelta of a mos’ high..

will find rest in the…

shadow of a ah mitey.

This I…

‘CLAIR OF DA WOHRD: (shouting)

He alone is my…

Wefuge…ana pace of safey.

He is my…

God an I twusting in HIM.

Translation:

Those who live in the Shelter of the Most High will find rest in the Shadow of the All Mighty.  This I declare of the Lord: He alone is my refuge, my place of safety.  He is my God, and I am trusting in Him. (Psalm 91: 1-2 NLT)

I waited for a moment, somewhat unsure of what to say next.  But, in true Coley Bear style, he took the words right out of my mouth:

“da debul aw gone, Mama?”

“Yes, son, he’s all gone!  You did a great job.  He got scared and ran away.”

“Yah…dat stinker!  Go way, debul, and don’t come back til I say so!”

(Gratitude to Nana and Papa for teaching my son “stinker” and to his favorite book that teaches him how to show ‘em who’s boss).

As I write I am reminded of two things:

1. We are just a vessel.  Only God can make my kids understand in their hearts what Brian and I try to place in their minds every day. Thus, the importance of prayer.
2. Whether Cole one day chooses to live his life for the Lord or chooses to follow self, I am doing my job as a mother to the best of my ability.  When he is 15 and rebelling against what he knows in his mind to be true…refer to #1.