I just came in from my morning walk.
My devotions led me to this.
I got this lovely photo yesterday via a text message.
And the Holy Spirit.
I’m guessing you clearly see the lovely portion and will overlook the other.
There are no words to describe what a sweet day that was.
The congregation I have been honored to serve for so long is exceptionally child tolerant.
Another way of saying that is “Christlike.”
It isn’t uncommon at all for a toddler to wander up to the chancel and join me in worship leadership.
But sometimes the parents are a bit stressed. They have been “churched” to think their children are distracting instead of attracting.
How did we manage to screw up so badly?
As I remember the day, Hannah Cate’s Mom was dealing with a child who was getting on the fussy side of tired. My “preacher vision” sensed a departure from the sanctuary might be imminent.
As I was holding forth I strolled over to give Mackenzie a break. Doing the Pops thing is one of my greatest joys.
I turned HC to face the people, rested her weight on my arm, swayed a bit, and finished the sermon.
I turned her to face out so folks could enjoy her beauty - and hoping they would catch her attention and distract her for a few.
She conked out.
It was no doubt the calming effect of being in my arms.
Or the stultifying effect of my sermon.
All that to say that I have been pondering this photo the last 24 hours.
Hannah Cate was one of four generations of her family in the worship service that day.
From generation to generation thinking enters this conversation.
Theirs and ours.
I know we are supposed to challenge and inspire and equip and convict.
Or at least that’s what I have been told.
But in a world where we are pretty much all on the fussy side of tired there are times, and places, that call for the accepting, loving, strong arms of a Friend.
And the peace to take a nap.
As our Friend and I walked among the morning songs of the birds on a lovely late Spring morning we were talking about babies and emotionally exhausted folks and the pressure to keep going. He smiled at me the way he does and said…
“I napped in a rowboat in a thunderstorm.”