Angel in my home

I've made no secret of the fact that my kids were hard work. The two youngest were too close together, coupled with my middle child having extra needs, my depression and the early years were damn hard work.......

I'm not generally one who considers their children to be perfect either. I've sat through too many conversations where Mums wax lyrical about how wonderful their kids are, and I wonder if they're living on the same planet as their kids lol...... I know we can have a blind spot where our loved ones are concerned, but common sense and reality has always prevailed with me. I have always easily acknowledged my childrens' faults as easily as I've glowed in pride when they've been praised.

Every now and again something happens which is so profound that it takes your breathe away. My kids are at a Catholic school, for many reasons. I wanted a faith based education in a small, well funded and caring community. I'm lucky I have that. I'm not Catholic but I have a faith, and a good respect of religion.

Sammy has a book which goes between school and home. It's a valuable communication tool set up initially for a child who rarely articulated what was going on around him. Today the message was a little different.... 'Sammy was uncomfortable going up for a blessing'.........

We sat down at afternoon tea and I asked him why he didn't want a blessing today in Church. He was reluctant to answer me and I could tell this was not a two minute conversation, or something to be brushed off..... I asked him if he wanted to come and talk to me on my own, and he did. There the revelation unfolded.

'Honey, why didn't you want to accept a blessing'
' I don't want a blessing, because I don't believe in the Bible'
' What don't you believe in?'
'They talk about things that aren't true. Mum I know my ancient history and they talk about slaves in the Bible and I know they came from somewhere other than what they're saying in the Bible, it's not true. How can I believe that someone touches Jesus' hand after being ill for many years and suddenly they're okay again - that just doesn't happen Mum'

Okay, deep breath here.....thinking fast here too. Thinking to myself, 'how old are you child? 9 or 19' This is not going to be an easy one.

' Sammy the Bible is based on stories, which have been handed down. Can I tell you a secret, I struggle with lots of what's in the Bible too. Maybe you just have to view them as stories, legends almost. Do you believe in Jesus?

'Yes, but only because we have AD and BC'
'It says in the Bible, that God speaks to people and I've never heard him Mummy' (he's crying at this stage.....
' Well Jesus lived. Do you believe that Jesus is the son of God?'
'No Mummy'
Shit, Lord help me I'm out of my depth here......

I continue
'Do you know the difference from right and wrong?'
'Yes Mummy'
'That's because God speaks to your heart, he tells you what to do, even though you don't 'hear' him, you feel him there'.

I think Sammy you have to have boxes in your brain, some for your ancient history knowledge and another for your Bible knowledge, and they need to be kept seperate.'
'It's so confusing Mum'
Sammy I struggle with it too,and it's okay to question things, there's nothing wrong with that, you're a smart boy and if something doesn't make sense, it's okay to make it try and make sense'
'Just keep it seperate Honey. Let's go out and have some afternoon tea'

He was still teary but held my hand and we walked out together.

'Do you think Honey, that if you believe in God, that you are not being loyal to the Egyptians?'
The tears ran freely again, hurt and dismay in his eyes. Tears of sadness at his betrayal and a disbelief that I understood.

'Honey those Egyptians and people from all the ancient civilizations that you love, would be proud to have you amongst them, and they would not be sad if you believed in God'....'You are not being disloyal'.

'Do you know how I know there's a God Sammy?'
'How Mummy?'
The tears welled up again and his beautiful face looked up at me expectantly.
'I look in your eyes Sammy and I see God. I listen to you sing and I hear Angels. You are beautiful and good and smart and you're living proof that there is a God. I was blessed when you were given to me.'

His tears ran down his face, mine rolled down mine into his hair.

Precious Blessed Child.

I love you with all my heart.

How old are you?