I love working with children, especially the ones under six years old. They come up with some of the funniest things, some of which I wish I could “un-hear,” some of which I’m sure their parents would hide under the nearest table out of utter mortification if I repeated.
Today we held the annual Angel Breakfast at my church, where the children 5-years old and under came dressed in their pajamas bringing any pancake toppings they like and an incidental parent. The kids made a craft, sang Christmas songs, listened to a Christmas story, and ate as many pancakes covered in things like whipped cream, chocolate chips, candy sprinkles, blueberries, and syrup as they could before we released them back out into the cool desert sunshine to run off all that sugar. I looked forward to Angel Breakfast all year. In fact, I could safely say it was my favorite Kids Ministry event even beating out Vacation Bible School.mm
So, this morning, in a rush of excitement, I jumped out of bed, put on my new blue snowflake fleecy pjs, and drove to church. (If you’re asking why I had to put on pajamas after I got out of bed, it’s because I didn’t want to sleep in my “good” pajamas before I had to wear them in public. Also, if you do not understand this, you obviously are not a girl.) I didn’t even make coffee before I went, and that’s saying something. So, in a slight caffeine-deprived haze, I made it to church before the little ones started showing up. The room was beautifully decorated, the Christmas CDs were already playing, and my heart was doing an anticipatory happy dance.
Every year, the same book is read. Now, I’m not a huge fan of this particular book, but it’s colorful, and the kids seem to like it. My friend who read it this morning did an amazing job, animating it with her voice and capturing the attention of even the squirmiest child. Believe me, by the time we got to the story, they had been dosed with enough sugar to send them into the ether without the aid of a NASA or a rocket.
The kids did an admirable job of sitting within their allotted space for the short span of the story, but today there was one little boy who kept trying to rush Mary and Joseph through the census, no room at the inn, and the birth. As my friend turned a page, a crystal clear little voice rang out, “The End.” He started when Mary and Joseph failed to make their reservation, and continued right on through to the three kings. “The End,” he announced again and again. Boy was that little guy happy when the reader finally joined him in agreeing that it truly was “The End.” ADORABLE!
Now, as my friend was sitting in a big, white rocking chair reading the Christmas story to the kiddos, I noticed that behind her someone had assembled a Nativity scene flannel board on the cork board behind her. I had to smile because as a child I hated flannel boards! I thought they were SUPER boring, and I failed to see their point, but today I loved this flannel board. I loved that it so beautifully illustrated the story that my friend was reading right that minute. I thought about a story my friend who was reading had shared with me about another flannel board:
She was holding a bag of characters for a flannel board, and a child looked at her and said, “We have a whole bag full of ‘Jesuses.'”
She looked at the child and said something like, “Uhm, nope. There can only ever be one Jesus.”
When she told me about this encounter, we both, of course, laughed. It sounded so funny: “a bag full of ‘Jesuses.'” But then I heard it again in my head, and I thought, Hmmmh – a bag full of ‘Jesuses.’ There should only be one of them, but how many ‘Jesuses’ did I have?
That little child, though meaning something completely different, uttered a heartbreaking truth. My (broken) heart has harbored more, so very many more than one Jesus. I thought of all the things that I elevated above Him – allowed to take precedence in my soul before time with Him, time for His people, and these things had become my “bagful of ‘Jesuses’.” And would be that it was just an issue of time; it was also an issue of priorities. So many things loomed larger than Love, even temporarily, and it was so very, very easy to allow this to happen – youth, appearance, money. Even things that were “good,” that were gifts from his hand: marriage, family, friendship, and yes, even church. When I allowed these things to replace Him in importance they became my idols – my ‘Jesuses’. So, while we laughed at the misspoken theology of the little one, the truth was, that little one shot an arrow straight into my heart.
I don’t want a bag full of ‘Jesuses’. What I want for Christmas is a purer heart, a heart in which there is only one Jesus. That’s my Christmas list in its entirety.
I love working with children. They say the funniest things, things that can change my heart.
The Unexpected Life 