A few weeks ago, Vava was having a hard time getting ready for school in the mornings. With a little bit of prying, I found out why - she was afraid of the bus ride.
Their bus driver doesn't assign seats, and doesn't help the kids find seats. They pile onto the bus and hope for the best. Sometimes the big kids sit together, and sometimes they each take a seat, and refuse to let the younger kids share. Sam helps Vava find a seat, but he told me that he had to sit on the floor because he couldn't find a spot for himself. (Once I stopped shaking from fury, I called the bus company and the school and got that sorted out.)
Even after she was getting a seat, Vava was still scared. So I asked her if she'd like me to pray with her. She nodded.
I wrapped my arms around her and began to pray. "Dear God," I whispered, "please be with Vava on the bus - "
She interrupted me with a disgusted snort and a shake of her head. "You don't have to pray that. He's always with me. I already know that. Just pray that He helps me to be brave."
Thus advised, I adjusted my prayer accordingly. And she's been brave. And Sam still helps her find a seat.
But my favourite thing is the Christmas truth that rings deep in that scrappy little heart.
He's with her.
She knows it.
God sent Him.
Immanuel. God with us.
And we've all been there. Frozen with fear that grabs us deep and saps our courage and keeps us shrinking back.
When that cold comes, I pray that you will find Him so very close. And I pray that He will help you to be brave, as brave as my Vava facing those big bus steps day after day.
He's with us.
Merry Christmas, friends!