The Son Needs Time With God, Too

I was cleaning up my mess when I started to think of God, and how I rarely ever have time for him. I start to climb the stairs, even though I'm babysitting.

I don't even get up a quarter of the way as the kids say, "Logan, Logan! Can you come play this board game with us real quick?" 

Knowing my Mom would disapprove if I said no,  I say, "Sure, let's play Sorry." We sit down at the table, and finish the game under 20 minutes, which is a new record for us so far.

I tell them that I would be right back, when they say, "Logan, wait, we're hungry." I ask God to just wait a bit longer, as I feed them. After they finish, I ask them if they wanted to watch TV while I go upstairs for a bit. They agree as I turn the TV on and turn it to cartoons. 

I walk up the stairs, not disturbed, and reach my room, opening the door. I sit on my floor and pray to God. I thank him for my wonderful times on this Earth, and the wonderful people in my life. I thank him for everything except for one thing. The way I have to hurt. I ask him to change the way I get hurt both physically and emotionally. I ask him to change this part of my life, even though I already know his answer to this. I need to continue living this way. I finish my prayer by thanking him again, but this time, for always being there for me. 

I walk back downstairs to find the little ones fast asleep. I sit down and watch TV, smiling.

The End

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