I was not feeling it this morning.  

At 3:30am I was awakened by the loud shriek of a cat in my yard.  Then another one.  The two of them were quite vocal.  This went on for quite awhile.  If you have never been blessed enough to hear cats socializing during the night, it is a blood curdling sound that just seemed to be amplified by the fact that all of our bedroom windows were open and the streets below were silent.  

I’ve started torturing myself with exercise early in the morning.  On Tuesdays and Thursdays, I am up at 4:30am for an exercise class.  So much for that extra hour of sleep.  I should be used to sleep deprivation… I think I can count on two hands the number of times my three year old has slept all the way through the night.  But that last hour of sleep would have been so nice.  
I zip through spin class and expect to come home to a quiet house.  6:00am and I am usually still the only one awake at this point.  Unless aforementioned toddler has crawled in bed with my husband.  My dear daughter isn’t exactly a “morning person”, so typically I am giving her a nudge at about 6:30.  She is seldom as happy to see me as I am to see her sweet, sleepy face.   
Today was very, very different.    
Today my sweet, bright-eyed little angel was already up.  She greeted me as I came in, smiling with her mess of curly red hair because she is happy.  So very happy.  She announces to me that she has been up for a little while, she has already fixed her snack and picked out her clothes, and she has her toothbrush in her hand – ready for action.  Then she remembers breakfast and follows me down to the kitchen.  As we are waiting on our bagels to finish toasting she tells me why she is so happy.  

“Mommy, I prayed this morning when I woke up.  I guess I wanted to pray because I dreamed all night about God, and Jesus, and the Holy Spirit.  They were all there… in my dream.”  

I had to peek around the corner to respond to her.  Because an announcement like that deserved eye contact.  I said, “That’s great sweetheart.  I’m so excited that you woke up and started your day talking to God.”

“Wanna know what I learned in my dream?” she asked.  

“Of course I do,” was my reply.  

“I dreamed that God just wanted me to know that He was the most important thing in life.  That’s all.  So I woke up and prayed.  I thought it was weird that He wanted me to know that because I’ve been knowing that for years, like since I was 5 or 6.  Do we have cream cheese?” 

We had our bagels and chatted along through our normal morning routine but I haven’t been able to shake her words.  Wow.  
I’ve been rocked pretty hard lately with what’s important.  Perceived priorities.  But in one simple revelation that was just so obvious to my seven year old daughter, I gained true perspective.  
God is the most important thing in life. Period.  
Everything else comes after that.  Health, finances, career, family… everything.  Yeah, it is something I have always “thought”, but is it really playing out in my priorities?  My actions? How I manage my life? 
Am I living like He is most important?  
I am pretty sure that it wasn’t a huge revelation to my daughter. She has a keen understanding of God that is beyond my comprehension.  She has no idea the impact that her simple and direct faith has on me each day.  I didn’t clue her in today that her words from God may not have just been for her but for her to share with others. As a parent I have really steered away from directing my children’s relationships with God but rather fostered opportunities for their own personal relationships with God to take root.  But her message was so clear and I felt led to share it with others.  
God is the most important thing in life.  
Pretty simple words, actually.  Even my seven year old has been “knowing it for years”.  

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