Yesterday during dinner, Levi’s cup of milk was dangerously close to the edge of the table.

“Move your milk!” I cried desperately as I remembered that there was nothing protecting the carpet under his chair.

He looked up at me, reached out, grabbed his cup, and wiggled it.

“Levi!” Frustration was creeping in.  “Stop! You’re going to spill!”

He didn’t have a devious look on his face.  It was a wide-eyed look of trying to take in as much information as possible.  What didn’t he understand?

“Move your cup, Levi,” I tried again.

Again, he made his cup dance on the table top.

“Levi!  Why –”

“I move my cup.”

“What?”

“I move my cup.”

“Oooooh!  You’re moving your milk!”

And we all got a good laugh.  And I felt guilty for yelling.  After all, he was obeying… I just didn’t understand!

But I was thinking about it today, and as cute as it was, that incident makes me so grateful that I have a Father who understands me. The Holy Spirit intercedes on my behalf, just to make sure!

He knows my heart and I believe He blesses my efforts, as feeble as they may be.

Thank you, Abba, Father!