Tell me a story

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One day a few weeks back the kids and I were on our way somewhere. I think maybe to my parent’s house, but I can’t exactly remember. Anyway, that’s irrelevant. What is relevant is that the kids were screaming.  So I said, “Do you want me to tell you a story?”

The screaming stopped and they both said “YA!”

(Oh dear.)

Thus began our new tradition of Angel asking, “Mama tell me a story.”

The first time I told Bible stories. Yikes, that was a good test for me. I’m not sure I entirely passed, especially when I told the story of David and Goliath. Were they fighting the Philistines? Was it a sling shot or just a rock in a sling or is that the same thing? Well, these are the things I worried about but I told the story just the same and I think they got the message.

After every story I would say, “The end.” Caleb must have heard me wrong because now after every story I tell or every book we read he says, “AHH MEN,” just like he does after he prays.

On our next trip across town or to my parent’s house (again, can’t remember) I told stories from my childhood. The psycho rooster. A lamb following me and my sister onto the school bus.

This weekend on the way to my cousin’s wedding, Angel once again asked me to tell her a story. I said, “Ok let me think of one.”

(Very long pause.)

Angel said “How about Daniel and the lion’s den?”

Well ok, great idea! I was trying to think of a story I hadn’t told 400 times but I guess it’s not a problem to go with a classic.

After I told that story my mom told the story of David and Goliath. Now she can tell a story. Who knew that David went to the camp to bring his brothers lunch? I guess I kinda knew that but I had forgotten when I first told Angel the story.

And then Mom tried to tell the story of Gideon. That didn’t fare so well, although I’m sure Angel and Caleb thought it was just fine.  After Gideon I suggested mom tell stories from her childhood. So she told how her and her cousin put a hose in their basement window and filled their basement with 5 feet of water because they wanted a swimming pool. And then she was going to tell us a story of her dog named Wolf but then stopped and said that it was kind of a sad story.

Perhaps she should stick with Bible stories, huh?

Seriously, it was a blessing for me to hear stories of my mom from her childhood. I had no idea she had a dog named Wolf. Or that she gave her parakeet a bath. Or that she put baby chicks into a jar.

Even though it’s been a challenge for me and has caused me to refresh myself on Bible stories (that’s a good thing I guess!), the time I’ve had with Angel and Caleb to tell them stories has been so precious. Not only because I want them to be familiar with the heroes of God’s Word, but also because I want them to know about my childhood and my parent’s childhood. What a blessing for them to have that knowledge and information to pass on to their children and their children’s children.

So if today the world seems to be spinning out of control, the kids are crabby and you are at the end of your rope, sit down together and tell them a story. You will be blessed, almost as much as they will be.

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