When we get home, Mom, I’m going to take off my shoes and then I’m going to change into my green dress and then I’m going to get out the crayons and color with my sister.
She narrates our entire day.
Mom, did you see that? Did you see me do that leap? Here. I’ll do it again. Watch Mom! I just put my legs like this, and then I bent my knees like this, and one arm goes up. Did you see that arm go up, Mom? And then I LEAP across the floor!
My four-year-old does this with most of her moments that make up our days.
And sometimes, honestly, it can be a bit… noisy. Sometimes I try to tune out the narration of why she needed to wear those socks with those shoes while she jumped up the stairs.
But most of the time I love it.
Because my girl, my oldest, is telling the story of her days.
And I think of the Israelites. How many times are they commanded to remember? How often does God remind them I am the Lord your God, who brought you out of Egypt.
Because when they forgot the story of their days, they wandered. When they no longer told the stories of what their God did to rescue them, they became ungrateful.
And just like my girl, I find myself narrating my days. But for me, it’s to keep my heart in check. For me, it is to make sure that I am seeing correctly.
To finish reading, join me over on (in)courage today…