Lord, in 2015 my husband and I invested in a boat. And while many said we were foolish to do that with two little children, we put our faith in You that this will have been a sound decision. And that our children will not throw an epic temper tantrum whenever we talk about using the darn thing.
So please, let their life jackets fit them snugly, but not be too tight and cramp their adorable little double chins. Let them not scream bloody murder every time we try to wrangle a kid into one, announcing to the entire marina that they’d rather be dead. Let them know the comfort and safety that is a personal flotation device, and feel secure and even fashionable despite the ridiculous neon colors we choose for them.
Lord, let my children suffer not from seasickness. Let that one time my daughter barfed all over the cockpit have been a fluke born of too many GoGurts, and never happen again. Let my children be calmed by the lull of the ocean and the allure of a fresh sea breeze, and not make them dry heave.
And on that note, Lord, let my children get over hanging their butts over the rail to go to the bathroom. Let us not have to come in early on a perfectly gorgeous day because my child refuses to pee in a bucket. Let them quickly get over the humiliation of dropping trou on a 19-foot boat with five other people onboard, and know the peace of an empty bladder.
And when we finally do get them out on the boat, can you please make it so that they understand the meaning of personal space? Let them relax and enjoy the scenery, making their own fun, and not depend on us to play ‘Elsa and Anna: Princess Pirates’ with them for hours on end. Mommy needs a break from Frozen.
And Lord, when we are on the boat, can you please calm my husband’s lead foot? Let him understand that not everything in life is about “THROTTLE DOWN,” and that it really doesn’t matter how fast the other boats on the Bay are moving; if those boats jumped off the Bay Bridge, would we? No. So just chill out and don’t make the kids complain that they can’t feel their faces again.
Lord, if our children do stay at home while my husband and I use the boat on a very rare “date night,” bring into our lives a babysitter whose hourly rate does not require both my arm and leg. Let us be able to spend time with each other, fortifying a meaningful marriage, without having to sell my jewelry.
And, if we do make it out of the house without our (beautiful gifts from God) children, please allow us to enjoy a moment of peace without receiving text messages about how our son has decided to climb on the roof/inhale a penny/cut our daughter’s hair with a multitool. Let our children know that this boat is special, and that it’s important for Mommy and Daddy to sometimes use it just themselves. Or something. Honestly, however You make it work is awesome.
And Lord, whatever it is that 2016 holds in store for our little family, please let this boat bring us closer together. Let us become a stronger family because of it. Let us form a bond with our days spent on the water that will carry forward throughout the rest of our lives. This boat is our own personal island, and we pack onto it our most essential loved ones. This life, on and off the water, is a precious gift we have been given. And we do not intend to screw it up.
Amen.
Monday, January 4, 2016 - 09:00
Lord, in 2015 my husband and I invested in a boat. And while many said we were foolish to do that with two little children, we put our faith in You that this will have been a sound decision. And that our children will not throw an epic temper tantrum whenever we talk about using the darn thing.
So please, let their life jackets fit them snugly, but not be too tight and cramp their adorable little double chins. Let them not scream bloody murder every time we try to wrangle a kid into one, announcing to the entire marina that they’d rather be dead. Let them know the comfort and safety that is a personal flotation device, and feel secure and even fashionable despite the ridiculous neon colors we choose for them.
Lord, let my children suffer not from seasickness. Let that one time my daughter barfed all over the cockpit have been a fluke born of too many GoGurts, and never happen again. Let my children be calmed by the lull of the ocean and the allure of a fresh sea breeze, and not make them dry heave.
And on that note, Lord, let my children get over hanging their butts over the rail to go to the bathroom. Let us not have to come in early on a perfectly gorgeous day because my child refuses to pee in a bucket. Let them quickly get over the humiliation of dropping trou on a 19-foot boat with five other people onboard, and know the peace of an empty bladder.
And when we finally do get them out on the boat, can you please make it so that they understand the meaning of personal space? Let them relax and enjoy the scenery, making their own fun, and not depend on us to play ‘Elsa and Anna: Princess Pirates’ with them for hours on end. Mommy needs a break from Frozen.
And Lord, when we are on the boat, can you please calm my husband’s lead foot? Let him understand that not everything in life is about “THROTTLE DOWN,” and that it really doesn’t matter how fast the other boats on the Bay are moving; if those boats jumped off the Bay Bridge, would we? No. So just chill out and don’t make the kids complain that they can’t feel their faces again.
Lord, if our children do stay at home while my husband and I use the boat on a very rare “date night,” bring into our lives a babysitter whose hourly rate does not require both my arm and leg. Let us be able to spend time with each other, fortifying a meaningful marriage, without having to sell my jewelry.
And, if we do make it out of the house without our (beautiful gifts from God) children, please allow us to enjoy a moment of peace without receiving text messages about how our son has decided to climb on the roof/inhale a penny/cut our daughter’s hair with a multitool. Let our children know that this boat is special, and that it’s important for Mommy and Daddy to sometimes use it just themselves. Or something. Honestly, however You make it work is awesome.
And Lord, whatever it is that 2016 holds in store for our little family, please let this boat bring us closer together. Let us become a stronger family because of it. Let us form a bond with our days spent on the water that will carry forward throughout the rest of our lives. This boat is our own personal island, and we pack onto it our most essential loved ones. This life, on and off the water, is a precious gift we have been given. And we do not intend to screw it up.
Amen.