Last week G2 got in trouble. Dad sent him to his room where he pouted in a chair. Feeling bad for him, I grabbed a children’s prayer book and sat down beside him. One prayer, then two, three, four… on we read and prayed. About halfway through the book, G2 looked up at me. “I’m getting happy,” he said with wonder on his precious little face.

I was getting happy, too.

A few days after G2’s trouble, our eighteen-year-old daughter got in a car accident. She’s all right, but her car is now in the shop. Just days earlier, she bought this car. The night of the accident, she woke me up to pray with her. Kneeling down beside my bed, she buried her face in my hair right on top of my ear. Half asleep, I whispered a prayer for her as she cried into my hair. After she left, I rolled back over to face the baby sleeping by my side and found that I could not hear out of my ear. It was filled with my daughter’s tears.

The next morning I asked her how she was doing.

“Much better,” she said.

“Are you getting happy?” I asked her.

“Thanks for praying for me last night. It really helped,” she answered.

G2 is known for his profound statements. “I’m getting happy” is a new term we’ve added to our family sayings courtesy of our four-year-old prophet.

A day or two after Lacy’s accident, Cami came home for a visit. Because she had college friends with her and wanted to take her brothers along to visit Oma and Opa’s ranch, she and I traded cars for the afternoon. When Cruz and I pulled into the driveway in Cami’s little Kia that I’d filled with groceries, I was already planning my attack on the house. First I’d shelf the canned goods, stuff the cold things in the fridge, then start another load of laundry and dinner. But when I stepped up to the door carrying the baby in one arm and groceries in the other, the key on Cami’s chain did not fit our lock.

Back to the car I went for my cell phone. “Cami,” I said when she answered my call a few rings later. “Your key won’t open the door.”

“Oh no,” she responded. “That’s my apartment key. My house key is in my purse.”

I groaned. With a baby and groceries and a ton of things to do in the house, I was locked out. Scott wouldn’t be home for two more hours. Checking all the windows with Cruz in my arms, I found them soundly locked.

Heading for the garage, I pulled out an ice chest and stashed the cold groceries there. Then Cruz and I walked down the driveway, fed and watered the horses in their pastures, then saw to the chickens. That took all of 15 minutes. Still an hour and forty-five minutes to kill and I was not happy. I considered mowing the lawn with Cruz on my lap, but decided I’d be in trouble with my husband if I did that. Scott would think that was too dangerous, putting Cruz on the mower with me. The thought of not getting any more chores done until hubby got home left me even more unhappy. I absolutely hate getting behind on chores because they pile up quick at our place. My unhappiness was growing until I realized I needed to pray.

Of course! I loaded the rest of the groceries on the bench beside the front door, then nursed Cruz in the car. While feeding the baby, I prayed. By the time Cruz finished his late lunch, I’d begun to feel better about my predicament.

After nourishment in the car, we headed for the trampoline. I removed my shoes, left Cruz in his leather booties, and we bounced around for a little while. As we bounced, I prayed some more, thanking God for all the good things that had happened during the week. It was Friday. Then I thanked Him for the bad things, like the flu bug our family was still battling and Lacy’s car accident and getting locked out of the house.

After bouncing around a bit more with a smiling Cruz, I laid down on the trampoline and stared up at the blue sky. Cruz crawled circles around me babbling his sweet baby language.

And then it hit me, I was happy. Not kind of happy. Really, really happy. Staring up at heaven on a rare January day that felt more like June, I discovered that peace was pouring through me. Joy was pouring through me. God’s love was pouring through me.

I could hardly believe it. “Cruz, I’m getting happy!” I said to the baby.

He babbled something back at me, his face one big smile. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d laid around just staring at the sky. “This is amazing,” I told Cruz. “We need to get locked out of the house more often. I’m having a great time out here doing nothing.”

But I wasn’t doing nothing. I was praying.

That’s the thing about praying. People say stuff like, “Well, all we can do is pray… Or we might as well pray… Or there is nothing left to do but pray…

But thanks to G2, I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that praying promotes happiness.

I hope you’re getting happy today 😉