Last Sunday at church, a fellow elder and I were installed to serve on next year's Session (our governing body). This involved, as is our tradition, the pastor and all past or present elders laying hands on us to pray. My church is small, and its people have diligently served for years. So by the time all past and present elders came forward, the pews were empty, except for the children. Then, the children joined the party.
They reached
through the tangle of adult bodies, trying to be part of Tradition. There was
whispering and jostling and the littlest hands slipped off my arm. The whispers got louder. Suddenly that pair of
little hands shoved their way through with utter determination and
GRABBED. Forget the standard laying on
of hands. This was no gentle touch. No
aiming for socially acceptable body parts. This child was determined to be part
of the action, and if that meant doggedly squirming through and latching on to
any part of me she could, then she was darn well going to do it.
I confess that
I missed some of the prayer as I tried to keep a straight face. I confess that my composure gave way to
uncontrolled giggles later, in my car. And
I confess that in the midst of the laughter, a lesson resonated.
It's Christmas
Day. This seems like a good time to start following my diminutive friend's
example:
Join me - let's all dive
in and grab hold of each day with both hands.
