Periodically our ministers include the children in the worship services. These are my favorite Sundays because children, seldom predictable and often spontaneous by nature, bring unbridled energy to ignite hearts and challenge adults to reach beyond our rigid schedules to experience all God intends for us.
Not long ago, we held a celebration honoring the teachers and other individuals who provide the programs for our young worshipers. Traditional music opened the service, but soon children streamed down the aisles, each waving a brightly colored scarf. If their bustling energy weren’t enough to electrify the atmosphere, the flashing reds, blues, yellows, and purples of the sashes visually charged our anticipation to celebrate the glory of God. Once the children arrived on stage, their moods calmed and their faces sobered. Sparkling eyes focused on the music director, mouths puckered to begin the first song.
The choir leader nodded for the music to begin. Little arms moved the scarves in ripples and waves as harmonious voices filled the sanctuary. The colors swayed in carefully rehearsed rhythms keeping beat with the hymn. Each body moved in perfect syncopation. Everyone, that is, except for one small boy who couldn’t quite stay in step. When the scarves went to the left, his went to the right. When fellow choir members raised their banners high, he bent low.
Muffled chuckles sounded throughout the congregation, not because we were laughing at him, but rather because he was so cute and trying so hard to mimic the practiced routine. Things spiraled downward. He dropped the scarf . . . it got caught under his foot . . . it became wrapped around his waist. Everyone’s eyes were latched on his movements, our hearts empathizing with his valiant efforts. Totally frustrated, the child stopped, tied the scarf in headband style around his forehead, and continued. The congregation couldn’t control their laughter. The boy donned a huge grin, went into a full-blown dance of his own design, and sang in spirited jubilation. His voice was off-key, but his words were just as sincere.
I try to gear my writing to a plan I’ve designed for the day. Usually I find that rhythm, and I am able through God’s counsel to create messages glorifying His name and the Holy Word. However, there are those occasions, try as I might, I’m just, well, out-of-sync. The plan I’m attempting to follow is lukewarm or just doesn’t find its way into a story. When I find my workday doomed in such a way, I think of that little boy, his plight, and his enthusiasm. I understand I’m not meant to follow the path I’veplanned. I pause, lift my eyes upward, and pray for the creative energy that filled that child to enter me. I pray for God to make my “performance” overflow. I pray that wherever the spirit may lead me, people will know from my jubilant response that I am a child of God.
