The Trade Off

Sweet Home Baptist Church hasn't always had Children's Church. When all of my age group started having babies, we took turns keeping a nursery, but toddlers and up went to "Big Church" with the adults. That led to some funny moments -- Leigh singing "There's a Tear in my Beer" as the choir came down from the loft after singing "No Tears in Heaven" -- Josh announcing that we had a bull named SOB (he didn't abbreviate) because Uncle David loaded the bull into a trailer by using his belt and saying, "Get in the trailer, you SOB" (and he didn't abbreviate either) -- Kelly announcing in a very loud (bordering on desperate) whisper, "Mama, I got to tee tee, d___it!" (and she didn't mince words) -- Karissa asking us to pray for her mama that she wouldn't be so mean -- and me lunging across the pew after Robert when he said he had a prayer request (because I had NO idea what was coming out of his mouth!).

After asking our preacher at the time about having Children's Church and that idea being shot down, God sent a sign from heaven. A family came, and their children were not interested in church. Not a bit. And the parents weren't interested in making them mind. Not a bit. So during the service, those children played Dukes of Hazzard on the cement picnic tables right outside the sanctuary. That night, the preacher asked if I would take the job of Children's Church. And so the journey began...

That was about 23 years ago...or sometime thereabout. My Sunday job has been such a joy. I'm not saying it's always easy. There have been Sundays that more than 20 children would be there...and I was the only teacher. Other Sundays I have had the pleasure of a tiny class...sometimes just one child whose family didn't go on vacation that weekend. Many of my children...because that's what they are, biological and otherwise...have gotten married and had their own children. Some of  those are in Children's Church now. There is a very good chance that a great many people have NO idea what Children's Church is or what it takes to have it every Sunday morning. In a lot of ways, it's a trade off for me. 

How is it a tradeoff? Well, let's see...

I don't have any idea what sermon was preached that day.
I have no idea what the song service was like.
I don't hear the prayer requests.
Very rarely do I hear any of the announcements.
I'm often caught off guard when people mention something coming up at church.
Sometimes, I even find out we're eating at church that very morning.

So, what do Robbie and I have instead?
We get to hear kids sing "Peace Like a Wibber."
We get to pray for a 3-year-old's dead puppy, sick family, and green swimming pool.
We get to make mangers  and barns and animals out of playdough.
We get sloppy kisses and hugs around my legs.
We get to be called ZiZi and PopPop by kids who are not our grandchildren--or sometimes not even related.
We get to watch the kids "float" a basket holding "Moses" down the "river."
We get to sing "Eep and Why" ( In adult language, that's Deep and Wide.)
We get to hear kids beg to stay (Gabby once, upon being taken out early, said "I can't go, Daddy! We haven't even learned about God yet!)
We get to hear the Bible in a whole new way ("He leads me beside the still waters. He will steal my sword.)
We get to hear the sweetest words -- "I'm ready to get babatized!"

So Big Church can just go on without us. We get the best end of that deal.