During church, we were doing an illustration about moving mountains.
"God will move the mountain if we're willing to put in our shovel," Pastor Rob explained.
To demonstrate this, the entire congregation got up in an unorganized communion-style line and proceeded to the front where we used a playground shovel to move some sand from a litter-box like mountain to a new box. It was actually really powerful.
While we were in line, out of my peripheral vision I saw this kid flailing. I didn't think much of it because I grew up in a church with a lot of (sometimes unruly) kids. You learn to ignore them.
"Katie."
I turned. Those flailing legs belonged to my favorite six year old. When I turned and opened my arms, my buddy took a leap of faith and jumped into my arms. I talked to him a bit as we walked to the front of the church, but he wasn't interested in conversation. He just wanted to be held.
I think it's illegal to walk like a normal person when you are carrying a child. We danced down the aisle. Yes, I danced in a Baptist church. And I didn't care what everyone else thought. I was focused on my buddy.
We got to the front of the church and I shifted him to my right hip. He shoveled his sand, and I did the same awkwardly with my left (nondominant) hand.
I went back to my seat, (temporarily) kidnapping Buddy. He worshipped with us for the rest of the service. I don't know that I've ever worshipped with a young child without his/her parents in the same pew. It was weird. Cool weird!
After church, our "Self Imposed Minster of Coffee" caught me.
SIMC: I saw you got yourself a child today.
Katie: I did!
SIMC: Where'd he come from?
Katie: He kind fell from the sky and into my arms.
SIMC: No, really, whose kid was he?
What if we were willing to take a leap of faith and jump into the arms of God?
What if we just allowed our Abba Father to hold us, to carry us?
What if we danced like no one was watching?
What if no opinions mattered except for the Lord's?
What if we were willing to be used to move mountains, even when it's awkward and uncomfortable?
What if we shared our pew with others, even if it's a bit strange?
What if our posture and attitude change with God's presence in our lives?
When I was carrying my buddy, I no longer mattered. Everyone wanted to know where the random kid came from. As a Christian, I no longer matter. I want everyone to know about God.
Going from "Katie the college student" to "Katie the college student carrying a random child" was an obvious change. Is the change from "Katie that girl" to "God's daughter Katie" as obvious? What if people saw that kind of change in me? What if they asked where it came from?
It fell from the sky. It was all God.
<>< Katie
"God will move the mountain if we're willing to put in our shovel," Pastor Rob explained.
To demonstrate this, the entire congregation got up in an unorganized communion-style line and proceeded to the front where we used a playground shovel to move some sand from a litter-box like mountain to a new box. It was actually really powerful.
While we were in line, out of my peripheral vision I saw this kid flailing. I didn't think much of it because I grew up in a church with a lot of (sometimes unruly) kids. You learn to ignore them.
"Katie."
I turned. Those flailing legs belonged to my favorite six year old. When I turned and opened my arms, my buddy took a leap of faith and jumped into my arms. I talked to him a bit as we walked to the front of the church, but he wasn't interested in conversation. He just wanted to be held.
I think it's illegal to walk like a normal person when you are carrying a child. We danced down the aisle. Yes, I danced in a Baptist church. And I didn't care what everyone else thought. I was focused on my buddy.
We got to the front of the church and I shifted him to my right hip. He shoveled his sand, and I did the same awkwardly with my left (nondominant) hand.
I went back to my seat, (temporarily) kidnapping Buddy. He worshipped with us for the rest of the service. I don't know that I've ever worshipped with a young child without his/her parents in the same pew. It was weird. Cool weird!
After church, our "Self Imposed Minster of Coffee" caught me.
SIMC: I saw you got yourself a child today.
Katie: I did!
SIMC: Where'd he come from?
Katie: He kind fell from the sky and into my arms.
SIMC: No, really, whose kid was he?
What if we were willing to take a leap of faith and jump into the arms of God?
What if we just allowed our Abba Father to hold us, to carry us?
What if we danced like no one was watching?
What if no opinions mattered except for the Lord's?
What if we were willing to be used to move mountains, even when it's awkward and uncomfortable?
What if we shared our pew with others, even if it's a bit strange?
What if our posture and attitude change with God's presence in our lives?
When I was carrying my buddy, I no longer mattered. Everyone wanted to know where the random kid came from. As a Christian, I no longer matter. I want everyone to know about God.
Going from "Katie the college student" to "Katie the college student carrying a random child" was an obvious change. Is the change from "Katie that girl" to "God's daughter Katie" as obvious? What if people saw that kind of change in me? What if they asked where it came from?
It fell from the sky. It was all God.
<>< Katie
