2 1/2 hours of love on a plane...

Kate's Mom felt nervous about who would wind up sitting next to her three-year-old daughter Kate during their flight from Orlando, Florida, back home to Canada. The reason? Kate has autism and could have meltdowns. 

When a businessman carrying papers sat down and Kate started rubbing his arm, Mouland feared he would give her the look that says, “Manage your child please.” Instead, he engaged Kate in conversation and asked her about her toy turtles. Kate felt such a connection that she started calling him “daddy,” not because she thought he was her actual father, but because he gave her a sense of security. 

Towards the end of the flight, Kate had a meltdown, but even then, the man tried to help. Shanell felt grateful. As she wrote in an open letter on her blog to this man whose identity she didn’t know...

Take a moment to click on the link and read the letter...
 "Daddy" showed Kate and her Mom that sometimes people are angels too!

And, if you have an extra minute, go here and meet "Daddy"...

Children in Church

I've posted similar thoughts before, but just because it's so important...

I see them learning. In the midst of the cries, whines, and giggles, in the midst of the crinkling of pretzel bags and the growing pile of crumbs, I see a little girl who insists on going two pews up to share peace with someone she's never met. I hear a little boy slurping (quite loudly) every last drop of his communion wine out of the cup, determined not to miss a drop of Jesus. I watch a child excitedly color a cross and point to the one in the front of the sanctuary. I hear the echos of "Amens" just a few seconds after the rest of the community says it together. I watch a boy just learning to read try to sound out the words in the worship book or count his way to Hymn 672. Even on weeks when I can't see my own children learning because, well, it's one of those mornings, I can see your children learning.

Read the entire post, here...

Children...

I realize that children in worship is a contentious point in many congregations. Strike many and substitute most. When my children were young I desperately wanted to sing in the choir but I hestitated...sure they could go to nursery to a point but then I felt guilty. Until one day an elderly lady in our congregation came up to me and told me how much she enjoyed seeing my smiling face in the choir. She mentioned that she knew I was struggling (although it had to be from Divine perception as I hadn't discussed it with anyone) with leaving my little ones in nursery. Then she asked one of the most beautiful questions I've ever heard (did I mention everyone KNEW what a loving heart she had?)..."My grandchildren are so far away, would you mind if they sat with me while you are in the choir?"

They did, and learned that the vows that the congregation made to nurture them in their faith were not just words. They got to see me do something for God that I loved (and both joined the Adult Choir at 12), and this lovely woman of God had the joy of young people sitting on either side of her.

I believe in children in church...so does this person...

 You are doing something really, really important. I know it’s not easy. I see you with your arms overflowing, and I know you came to church already tired. Parenting is tiring. Really tiring.

I watch you bounce and sway trying to keep the baby quiet, juggling the infant carseat and the diaper bag as you find a seat. I see you wince as your child cries. I see you anxiously pull things out of your bag of tricks to try to quiet them.

And I see you with your toddler and your preschooler. I watch you cringe when your little girl asks an innocent question in a voice that might not be an inside voice let alone a church whisper.  I hear the exasperation in your voice as you beg your child to just sit, to be quiet as you feel everyone’s eyes on you. Not everyone is looking, but I know it feels that way.

I know you’re wondering, is this worth it? Why do I bother? I know you often leave church more exhausted than fulfilled. But what you are doing is so important.

When you are here, the church is filled with a joyful noise. When you are here, the Body of Christ is more fully present. When you are here, we are reminded that this worship thing we do isn’t about Bible Study or personal, quiet contemplation but coming together to worship as a community where all are welcome, where we share in the Word and Sacrament together.When you are here, I have hope that these pews won’t be empty in ten years when your kids are old enough to sit quietly and behave in worship.I know that they are learning how and why we worship now, before it’s too late. They are learning that worship is important.

I see them learning. In the midst of the cries, whines, and giggles, in the midst of the crinkling of pretzel bags and the growing pile of crumbs I see a little girl who insists on going two pews up to share peace with someone she’s never met. I hear a little boy slurping (quite loudly) every last drop of his communion wine out of the cup determined not to miss a drop of Jesus. I watch a child excitedly color a cross and point to the one in the front of the sanctuary.  I hear the echos of Amens just a few seconds after the rest of the community says it together. I watch a boy just learning to read try to sound out the words in the worship book or count his way to Hymn 672. Even on weeks when I can’t see my own children learning because, well, it’s one of those mornings, I can see your children learning.

I know how hard it is to do what you’re doing, but I want you to know, it matters. It matters to me. It matters to my children to not be alone in the pew. It matters to the congregation to know that families care about faith, to see young people… and even on those weeks when you can’t see the little moments, it matters to your children.

this is the link...

Listen

Mother

Mother, Mom, Mommy, Ma, Mum, Mama, Mater, Mummy, Muter, Madre, Mere, and all the other names children use...To all of you, and those who stand in your stead...

Words...

This speaks for itself...

Children are merely on loan to us from God. How do you think He feels about us when we hurt them with our words? The inner child never goes away, sometimes they just hide...

Intelligent Conversations...

Don't you wish you knew what they were saying to one another? Makes me smile all over!

Our Children

On Children
by Kahlil Gibran

Your children are not your children.
They are the sons and daughters of Life's longing for itself.
They come through you but not from you,
And though they are with you yet they belong not to you.

You may give them your love but not your thoughts,
For they have their own thoughts.
You may house their bodies but not their souls,
For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow,
which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.
You may strive to be like them,
but seek not to make them like you.
For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.

You are the bows from which your children
as living arrows are sent forth.
The archer sees the mark upon the path of the infinite,
and He bends you with His might
that His arrows may go swift and far.
Let our bending in the archer's hand be for gladness;
For even as He loves the arrow that flies,
so He loves also the bow that is stable.

Children...

Timothy Dalrymple has written a wonderful piece answering the question...Why do we have children?

"...We have no choice but to give ourselves for our children, but we learn that in giving ourselves we receive our selves. In the frailty of this little form that called such an immense love out of me, this bundle of winsome life and running legs and embracing arms, I share in the quintessentially human condition of loving recklessly what is fragile, fleeting, and at risk. There is nothing for it; I cannot help myself. Even at thirteen months, my daughter was sweet and vulnerable and of immeasurable sacred worth. She was not perfect, but she was everything that was good in me, and yet so much better, the highest art I had created, my only true thing in a counterfeit world. She was my little girl. She still is, and always will be. And the joy of loving and being loved by her—well, it was worth any sacrifice and any risk."

He put into words the emotions I have felt for child and grandchild and they are painful yet sweet. Read the entire piece here.