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Devotions

Night after night, for nigh a year,
When bedtime came, we’d watch our child
Be overcome by his emotions:
From glee, to rage, to childish fear,
And us both stumped: What drove him so wild
__And triggered these explosions?

He needed more than bedtime prayer
To climb down from the day’s excitements
And soothe him well enough for rest.
We found a Christian book to share
And show him plain: His mood’s incitements?
__False promises, at best.

It seemed the readings wouldn’t take.
We begged and prayed that he’d lie still
Enough for just one verse to land.
For month and months, without a break,
We set God’s Word against his will
__And its wild child’s demands.

We’d sunk so deep in our despair,
To hear, at last, his small voice, hoarse
With tears, ask “can I read?”—do what
We’d knelt for all these nights of prayer…
He read it all, flipped on all fours
__And told us, “smell my butt.”

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Envoi

A pause, and then we had to laugh;
at least the boy was on the path.
In lieu of miracles, small wins
May work as well to curb our sins.

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Adam Wasem is a writer and rare bookseller living in suburban Salt Lake City, Utah.

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4 Responses

  1. Adam Sedia

    Having been through this twice, I know exactly these frustrations: both in putting the child to bed and in trying to teach religion. This lighthearted piece captures those moments, and ends with a realization that we can apply just as much to ourselves.

    Reply
  2. Adam Wasem

    Thanks, Adam. I hoped parents might get a kick out of this, and be reminded not to despair or lose patience, that the “civilizing” process with kids has a lot of setbacks and missteps, a lot of 2 steps forward, 1 back sort of occasions. I’m glad you could relate.

    Reply
  3. C.B. Anderson

    So true, Adam. I’m glad that nowadays I can interract with my grandchildren unconditionally. It is now my daughter’s responsibility to impose conditions.

    Reply
    • Adam Wasem

      I got a late start on fatherhood myself–turns out the number of bible-believing Christian, non-materialistic young women with a passing interest in actual art and culture, and not totally ruined by drugs, alcohol, or terminal narcissism is vanishingly small in big liberal cities like Chicago–who knew? But from what I’ve seen, the burden of responsibility for grandchildren is definitely nothing like for children, and is usually over when babysitting night is over. Say a prayer for all of us poor put-upon parents that we make it to your fine far land of grandparenthood.

      Reply

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