Let Us Pray

Today was move up day at Church. All of the kids moved up to the next level according to their age. My little one, A2, just turned 3 and until today she has been in the nursery. We walked in and headed to the nursery to check her in and one of her teachers told us she'd be moving up. Whoa. Big step. Not that A2 isn't ready to move up, I think I'm not ready for her to move up. It kinda graduates her from baby to big girl. Does that mean I have to let go of her being my baby?

What this did mean was that she had to go into the sanctuary with everyone else until it was time for the kids to be dismissed. Hold up! She has to go in with us?!?!? She's not ready, we're not ready, the congregation isn't ready! A2 is not the most quiet of children. She's not a bad girl, she's just A2. She is one of those children that makes you worry about what she's going to do next. We have to keep a very watchful eye on her at home because she's very sneaky and not afraid of anything except a thunderstorm at bedtime (who wouldn't be). A1, our 6 year old, has been going in their with us since she was 3 and is accustomed to it. The kids really only stay in there while we sing a few songs.

So, as we sign the girls in at the children's station and walk towards the sanctuary, Husband looks at me and says "She has to go in there with us?" (I think his voice got a little squeaky here - you know, anxiety) "Guess so" I say. Really, I was thinking what he was thinking . . . praying rather . . . "Lord, please make this child behave and not embarrass us."

We made it to our seats and the kids sat down. They had already started singing before we walked in. As we sang, I was expecting to hear some loud, little voices beside me but I didn't. I looked over at the kids who were sitting between us and they were talking quietly. That was fine as long as they were not loud and making a scene. Usually when we go places with her that require people to pay attention to what's going on in the front of the room, we end up taking her out because everyone starts looking at us.

Great, we've made it this far. Oh no, now it's time to pray . . . "Let us pray" says the pastor. We brace ourselves. This would be her cue to get loud or ask an inappropriate question. Everyone closes their eyes and bows their heads. Everyone except for me. Just to make sure the kids were going to continue to stay quiet, I stole a quick peek. What I saw was the sweetest thing. Both of my children had their eyes closed, heads bowed, and hands in front of their chests in prayer position. Both of them! A1 does this every week but this was A2's first time in there with us. We pray at home and do the same thing but this was different. A2's eyebrows were scrunched up in what looked like serious thoughtful prayer. What could she be thinking right now? Is she really listening? Maybe. Maybe she had her own prayer. God sure did answer ours right then. All I could think about was how wonderful this moment was and how I wanted to remember it forever.

When the kids were dismissed to go to children's church, I still felt like I couldn't let go of my baby. Yes, she had proven that she was capable of sitting quietly and behaving, but was she really ready for a "big kid" class. She would still be with the same group of friends so at least there would be some familiarity. Well, I had to make sure she wasn't going to get lost in the crowd so I held her hand (and so did A1) and walked her to the door myself. When we got to the door I told the teacher that was taking them to the classes that she was moving up (like she didn't know) and that she was my baby, to take good care of her. Was that silly of me? I don't think so. I just felt like I needed to say it. Every mother out there knows what I mean, or at least I hope so.

We made it through with no incidents. I went to pick them up and only saw A1. That would make sense, A1 is older they wouldn't be together. OK. Where is she? Did she escape? Wouldn't put it past her. I kept looking, straining make neck and eyes to see which area she would be running out of. Nothing. I see A1 get up to go find her. What? She only has on one shoe. Why? I'll find out later. There they come. Smiling and running, A2 is saying "Mama, mama", her angelic voice finding its way through the crowd and noise. A2's teacher said that she was a great big sister and took care of A1. See, I knew they loved each other. Hopefully next week will be as perfect as this week.