Pull the weeds out of the flower garden. Wash the car. Wash the windows. Etc.

Each item on my "to do" list for the following day had its own number and time frame in which to do it. Since our son, Shane, came along, it had become necessary to schedule certain things during his nap time. The moment I knew he was asleep in the safety of his playpen, I could grab his baby monitor, race outside, and do what I needed to do outside. If nothing disturbed him, I was sure to have an hour to finish one thing and maybe even knock out the next item on the list.

Late the next afternoon, just after Shane dozed off, I tiptoed past his playpen towards the backdoor. I was within two feet of the backdoor when the floor creaked.

"Mama. Out!" With his hands in the air, he grinned and repeated his request over and over until I reached down and picked him up. "Walk," he said as he grabbed my hand and pulled me across the room. With one chubby finger, while still holding hands with the other, he matter-of-factly pointed to the floor. "Right there," he commanded with a grin. I sat in the floor and watched as he demonstrated. On all fours, he hopped as best he could, and then pointed at me to do the same.

"Rid-it, rid-it ..." (Shane-ese for "ribbit"). The next thing I know, I'm on the floor hopping around the living room like a frog. I never did get around to those weeds that day. Instead Shane went to the front door and asked to "walk." There was a summer shower heading our way, but I figured we still had a few minutes. The sky, though steel blue, felt calm and serene. There was a fresh, sweet scent in the air and a gentle breeze picking up. As we walked down the driveway, Shane looked up and saw the moon peaking in and out of the rain clouds.

"Night night moon," he said as he waved high above his head. As we walked along, we said "night-night" to the birdies, then to his favorite doggie, to the clouds, and finally to a tiny little bug by his shoe.

Suddenly, I felt the raindrops so we walked quickly back towards the house. As I stepped up on the front porch, the shower unleashed.

"Come on Shaner, we gotta get in quickly or we'll get all wet." I turned around to grab his hand and saw that he had stopped in the middle of the yard. He was staring straight up into the sky, soaking wet by now, gathering raindrops in his tiny outstretched arms and laughing hysterically.

"Oh boy ... rain ... rain!" He shouted.

"Oh boy ... rain ... rain!"
There is no sweeter picture than a two year old little boy truly feeling a wonderful summer rain shower for the first time. And I can't think of a sweeter reminder from God to stop ... and soak up all of this beauty around us.

Because I have a son, I have to have a set schedule. Because I have a son, I sometimes have to throw that schedule right out the window ... yeah, the window with fingerprints all over it.

One day some parents brought their children to Jesus so he could touch them and bless them, but the disciples told them not to bother him. But when Jesus saw what was happening, he was very displeased with his disciples. He said to them, "Let the children come to me. Don't stop them! For the Kingdom of God belongs to such as these. I assure you, anyone who doesn't have their kind of faith will never get into the Kingdom of God." Then he took the children into his arms and placed his hands on their heads and blessed them. (Mark 10:13-16)