The truth and comedy of being a wife and mother
I went to church on Sunday.
I know big surprise.
I felt like I hadn’t gone in ages, but with all the hub-bub of the fall over and a lucky day off of work, I took advantage of the opportunity to hear the good Lord’s word.
It is a small country church and because I’m black I knew my presence would be a slight distraction. I usually don’t use the latter as an excuse, but it’s perfectly fitting for the situation. I know this because the first time I made an appearance (about two months ago) three old bittities in the back two rows brought their heads together so fast I thought at least one of them would emerge with some sort of concussion.
Because I had Darren with me I knew it would be double distraction. It would help if he wouldn’t ham it up for the audience, but he never fails to put on a show. As we walk in he’s all big eyes and squeals. Then he starts playing peek-a-boo with the people in the pew behind us.
Surprisingly, he toned it down once the service started.
The service was not without one epic fail on my part though. The pastor had invited me to take communion with the rest of the congregation; I was super excited about this. Firstly, because I hadn’t had communion in months and secondly, Darren would be able accompany me while to took the sacraments.
The fail comes from my seat selection. One word of advice, if you are a visitor in a church and are to partake in church-going activities; pick a pew where you are not the first person to leave the pew. In other words, make sure you sit it the very back so you know what to do when it comes to communion.
Being the one and only person (besides Darren) in my pew, I made an awkward walk down the aisle to line up for communion. Highly embarrassing. Faithful church goers understand what I mean.
There was an epic win of the service to make my seating fail less significant. The pastor blessed Darren when he went up with me for communion.
I LOVE this about old country churches.
It is something I remember my pastor doing to me before I was confirmed and it something that I’ve wished my old church had done. There is something poignant about the gesture. Maybe it is because of the bible story where Jesus rebukes the disciples for keeping the little children from him; saying if we all were to have faith like a child, that we would understand the Word of God more.
What I do know is it makes me feel like my child has a place in the church. I know that he may screech at inappropriate times, but he is there for a reason; to subconsciously soak up the Word of God.
God’s blessing, though the pastor, is a keepsake that I hold on to to build my child’s faith for years and years to come.
Granted I had some wild visions of Darren protesting the gesture or trying to drool all over the pastor’s fingers, but he was calm (another epic win). He looked up at the pastor briefly, but overall unconcerned.
Yeah, he may not have understood the significance of the gesture. But as a parent, it is reassuring to know that you child is blessed.