From the moment life began for each of our children, Eric and I have prayed that they would have a heart after God's own heart, that they would surrender their life to Jesus. When Owen picked this word--Salvation--I couldn't help but wonder, was this the year? Would this be the year of Salvation? Only time would tell...
This past week-end was ridiculously busy for us. It was over-commitment on steroids and the entire weekend I just kept saying over and over, 'This is stupid. This is stupid. This is stupid.' Having just got back from Uganda, my mind has been focused in on 'the simple life'. You know, that mission trip heightened clarity- of-mind, zeroing in on what's important and what's not. So you can imagine the backlash in my mind over our crazy schedule. "THIS IS STUPID!" was being yelled with every inch of my soul.
You could say I kind of had a bad attitude.
All weekend long my seven-year-old kept innocently asking if we could go to the Easter Pageant at our church on Sunday evening. You see, he and Jeremiah are in the children's choir and they were performing a few songs in it. The weekend before (when we had just returned home from Uganda), we received a notice in the mail about the extra rehearsals the children's choir was doing that week. We decided he and Jeremiah would not be doing it, as we knew we had a lot going on on Friday and Saturday of that weekend. So we purposely made sure that they missed all the rehearsals...well, that is until Wednesday night, because Wednesday night they shuffled all the choir kids straight into rehearsal after Awana. Of course our kids went right in because they had no idea they weren't going to be doing it. When we tried to retrieve them and realized we would be interrupting the entire rehearsal, we just let them be.
That was enough of a teaser for my seven-year-old. From Wednesday on, the Easter Pageant was all he talked about:
'But Mom, I've never been to an Easter pageant. This will be my first ever....But mom, this is different from last year. This is BIG. But, Mom, I really want to go. Please, mom. Please??????
And then, THEN, usher in Friday and Saturday--the crazy days--and well, please tell me you understand when I adamantly told our children's pastor and his wife on Sunday morning that I was banning Owen from being in the pageant that night.
Yes, those exact words came out of my mouth. And yes, sometimes I can be overcome with strong emotion. And yes, I realize now, that those words were a tad strong.
But Eric and Jeremiah were gone for the day at a baseball tournament, I reasoned. I was still so very tired from our trip, I whined. And I just really, really, really, really, really wanted a Sabbatical.
So I was banning.
End of story.
Yet, that afternoon, I guess God changed my heart. After a long afternoon bike ride together and just some good 'ole family time, I felt refreshed. I felt rekindled. I felt--not quite so negative.
So when Owen innocently asked me once again about going to the Easter pageant, something twisted in my heart and I said yes.
And, oh, how glad I am that I did.
Joshua, Sophie, Wes and myself sat in the pew and watched the little seven-year-old member of our family, clad in his gold robe and bright blue sash, gaze at Jesus walking by him in the marketplace. We suppressed our laughs, knowing that he really didn't know what he was doing with his one, lone rehearsal under his belt. And even though he didn't really know the words or what he was doing, it didn't really matter. His innocent expression made up for it all.
As I watched the crucifixion, I again thought about Owen. What was going through his mind, I wondered?
In the closing song, after Jesus rises from the grave, Owen and the rest of the children walked down the aisle in their little,white robes, carrying golden crowns. Small, innocent, hands lifting their crowns up in unison...
The music, the worship, the story, the beauty--it was like food for the weary soul. So soothing, so restful.
So thankful I was that I hadn't followed through with the ban. And what I would have missed in the ban.
It reminded me that we don't always find His rest in saying no, but in saying yes to the right things.
...And sometimes His Rest is in the rest of the story...
As I tucked Owen in that night, his little face looked deeply perplexed and saddened.
'What's wrong, buddy?'
'I just didn't know. I didn't know that Jesus went through all of that for me. I told him earlier that I was so sorry that He had to go through all of that pain.'
My heart lurched and wobbled as I looked into those troubled, young eyes. We talked about how Jesus loved him and me and all of us so very much that He went through all of that pain on the cross so that we could have life. We talked about how He suffered greatly for his sin, my sin, all of our sin, so that we could be free of our sin. All it took on our part was trusting and believing so.
After praying with him and tucking him in, I walked down the steps, realizing that the Easter Pageant I almost banned Owen from was going to play a significant role in his story. It seemed God had done some seed planting that evening and only time would tell regarding what had been sown...
Since Jeremiah's baptism at the beginning of February, I have been working through a book with him and Owen called, 'I'm a Christian--Now what?' This morning, as we were reading it, Owen asked me if he could get baptized.
'Well, why do you think you should be baptized?'
'Because I've asked Jesus into my heart--twice, even.'
'Well, Owen, what does that mean exactly? I mean, how has your life changed?'
'Well, I used to lie and stuff. But now when I get in trouble, like last night when you sent me to bed for whining, I sat in my bed and read my Bible and prayed to God about it.'
'Are you sure you read your Bible? Where was your Bible exactly?' questions the skeptical mother of five whose been around the block a few times.
'Yes, of course I read it. It was on my red shelf right beside my bed.'
As if on cue, the Lord brought this picture to my mind:
Of course, whether I am witnessing a 'heart-change' before my very eyes, only time will tell...but one thing is for sure, seeds are being planted and it is mine and Eric's job as Owen's parents to help sow them. To disciple him.
For we know that some seeds are trampled on and ate up by birds. Some fall on rocky ground, causing plants to wither. Other seeds fall among thorns, which grow up and choke the seeds. Yet some fall on good soil, coming up and yielding a crop of a hundred times more than is sown (Luke 8:5-8, paraphrased).
These commandments He gives us are to be on our hearts, we are to impress it upon our children, to talk about it when we are at home and when we walk along the road, when we lie down and when we get up (Deut. 6:6-7, paraphrased).
Will we fail? Yes. Will we do it imperfectly? Yes. But He wants us to get back up, brush the dirt off of ourselves, and keep at it. Sowing and sowing and sowing, tilling, and tilling and tilling, one God-breathed Word after another, until one day, a crop of a hundred more times than anything we could ever ask or imagine is sown.
And may you never, ever, ever ban your child from going to the Easter Pageant.
No comments:
Post a Comment