It’s Sunday morning.
Zoe had a rough night last night, spending an hour or two of it in our bed (“We’re all together!” she said with delight; “What’s this?” she asked, patting Mike’s back). I am hoping against expectation that this does not have implications for her behavior in worship this morning. What’s that sound? The laughter of parents around the world, I imagine.
For a busy two-year-old, she does pretty well, but . . . let’s just say, you always know when Zoe is there, and you know if she’s happy or sad or angry or delighted.
So for all the parents headed to church this morning, and for the worshipers lucky enough to be sitting near those parents and their children, here is one quote from Doug Pagitt at the Celebration of Biblical Preaching earlier this month:
“If we don’t have time to stop
and listen to each other cry,
even when we’re doing the important things,
then what are we doing?”
This is why, at Solomon’s Porch, parents are encouraged to keep their crying children in the room.
What happens at your church when little ones cry or scream or climb into the pulpit? What would you like to see happen?