....wise words and beautifully written on a never ending; thankful for all the children. They are, we all are salvific... By Laura Nee There is a point every Sunday, when Father is delivering his sermon, that the noise level from the younger set begins to peak. It reminds me of summer evenings in the south, when the combined noise of the cicadas and tree frogs would crescendo to an almost deafening level, and then slowly lower to a blessed peace. In those moments, one could almost feel connected with eternity, the rhythm that is life on this tired old ball of dirt we call home. I always feel a little sorry for Father in that moment of crescendo, and wonder if he feels he should, hurry up, before things really get out of hand. In that same instant, though, I feel again that connectedness with eternity. Our church is blessed with many young (under the age of three) children. It really is a blessing. It means we are net a dead parish, but alive and multiplying from within. I hear complaints from time to time about behavior, but my thought is, the only way to learn to behave in church is to be present there, and so I welcome the children. I also remember what it was like, having had to little ones,15 months apart in age, to deal with in church. My husband and I used the divide and conquer method. One of us would take charge of each child, and we made it through. I also remember what it was like to be so tired, when getting to church was like running a marathon, when my husband and I were enduring our own trials, to just lack then emery to rein in a child properly. It just seemed all too much, so I know there were times in church that my kids were too fidgety, too noisy. So, when I see a kid, maybe on the cusp of being out of control, I pray for the parents. I know. Ive been there. And, I want to say (and sometimes do)to those parents, hang on. It gets better. It wont always be like this. Your son, now an that my altar boy, might come up to you after serving, and say that needs a new prayer book because hes worn the old one out following the service while behind the altar. Your daughter, might link arms with you, put her head on your shoulder, and whisper, This is my favorite hymn and stay that and stay that way, until the hymn is finished. You might think, for just the briefest of instants, that you have indeed, brushed eternity. God bless!
Posted on: Mon, 17 Mar 2014 15:08:44 +0000
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