As My Daughter Raises Me...

This Sunday was one of those milestone Sundays. As our church began it's children's ministry, our oldest daughter has now moved beyond nursery age. Our church is offering discipleship for children in our second service, but the kids stay in the auditorium for part of the service and leave halfway through. The consequences of having a 4-year-old really didn't settle in until we walked through the doors of the church. I confess, not just out of habit, but out of preference, I wanted to drop my daughter in the nursery and pray no one noticed.

I'm the pastor, I thought, It's not fair to put her (actual concern was me) under this kind of microscope yet. What if she does something embarassing? What if she distracts me during our worship in song and I get up to preach feeling unprepared? What if she is a distraction to others? What if I lose it in an effort to control her and look like a raving jerk in front of our entire church body?

The feelings only intensified when I realized we were sitting in first service (my wife attends both services so she can see everyone), and there would be no child care at all.

Then IT happened...

As we stood to sing the first song, this sweet gentle hand placed itself within mine. There was my daughter, standing on a chair so she could see, singing and holding hands with her mommy and daddy. I suddenly felt a tremendous rebuke. My attitude had been awful. God grants me the privilege of worshipping with my children around, and I just wanted to farm her off to others so she wouldn't distract. She's not a distraction, she's my calling! I couldn't believe the amazing privilege of singing praises to my God, hoping my daughter senses her daddy's passion for Jesus. Suddenly, I found myself not wishing she was still in nursery, but wishing my other two were old enough to be out of nursery. In a flash, God corrected my errant thinking.

...but that was nothing.

I arrived home for dinner to the typical chorus of "Daddy!" (oh, I love that!!!) But then my daughter quickly turned around and raced back to the kitchen. When she returned, she had a drawing in her hand. She then proceeds to tell me that her drawing is "the cloud that God used to speak to Moses." I quickly try to correct her. You mean the burning bush that God spoke to Moses in, assuming she's heard the famous Bible story. "No daddy," she's adamant, "the cloud you talked about, when Moses and God would talk." My daughter was referring to this message (from this passage) I had just preached yesterday. Not only was she well behaved in the service. Not only did she pay attention during the sermon, but she actually had taken a piece of it with her.

Yeah, Sunday was a milestone Sunday...not for my daughter, but for me.