A Party about The Lord

This summer, we have made the (blessed) transition in car-ride-entertainment from an endless stream of Magic Tree House books to a looping (but less distracting) round of our six Kids Praise CDs (as in, Psalty the Singing Songbook). Since half of the albums were ones I myself listened to repeatedly as a child (turning over the tape every 20 minutes, of course), I really don't mind having them going most of the time.

However, there are some occasions when [shock] P and I want to talk without music blaring. Or [even more shocking] I want to be able to enjoy a few moments of silence during our brief daily commutes. (I remember my mom telling me that she never turned the radio on in the car when we were kids because she just couldn't take any more added noise in her life. I fully understand that now...) And on those rare occasions when I desperately need peace, I quickly switch off the radio as I turn on the ignition and pray that no one will notice.

They almost always do.

And then when I explain we are just going to have some quiet time, this is the response I get from Luke: "But I really want to listen to something!"

"Okay," I relent, and turn on a soothing radio station or my iPod. "We can listen to this."

"Noooo! I want to listen to music that's about The Lord!" returns the overly pious child.

Sigh.

I don't really know where he developed this way of speaking of "The Lord," but I can't help but think about how my iPhone always autocorrects that phrase so that "The" is capitalized as well as "Lord," because that's exactly how he says it. And that rascal has perfected the notes of sincerity in his voice so much that - I'll be honest - he almost always wins this battle. I've gotten a little tougher lately (and P has no qualms ignoring the religious plea, much to his credit), but let's just say that three out of four Vickers can not only sing most of the songs on the Psalty albums but can also repeat a number of the phrases from the dialogues. If you hear Sarah saying a phrase that seems unusual for a three-year-old's vocabulary, it's probably from one of our CDs.

This afternoon, we journeyed back home from a long but successful visit to IKEA (incidentally, we spent most of the driving time pleasantly finishing up an audiobook from our Balmorhea trip, Charlotte's Web, or as I might call it, "Yea, Not Psalty Or Magic Tree House Again!"). After the audiobook ended, Luke began to ask me if we could have a party. But not just any party - a party about The Lord. When I asked what that meant, he explained it would be a party where everyone had to be loving, because that's what The Lord is. After a little more probing, I was able to ascertain that such a party would involve his friends (Stella, Hayden, and Campbell) and anyone else I wanted to invite. The grown-ups would talk about The Lord downstairs while the kids would play upstairs - and if anyone started fighting or anything, Luke would tell them to stop because it was a party about loving.

I mean, what do you say to a request like that?

Here's what I wanted to say: "I love your heart, child, but I am NOT planning another party for you and your friends for at least another year. There's a reason birthdays are only annual." In reality, I narrowly escaped any commitments by pointing out the fact that we were going to have our small group over on Sunday, and Luke seemed happy to concede that Sunday night small group is basically a "party about The Lord." However, I know this child, and I know it's not the last time I'll hear this request. I guess I'd better start cooking up a better excuse - or making plans for a party.

Any ideas about what kinds of food you serve at a party about The Lord?