The Mystery
For the third time, we were asked to attend a religious meeting at the church so that one of our children could make their First Communion. I'm not sure how I ended up being elected as the go-to-guy for this assignment, but I remember attending a service with Matt, then Jake, and last night was Sam's turn.
"Who do you want to go with you?" I asked Sam as he returned home from school yesterday afternoon.
"Actually, I like Mom better," he said. "So let's go with her."
Sam is nothing if not honest, but I feigned hurt. "I always take the kids to this," I said. "Mom has to help with homework and do stuff here, I'll take you."
The reason why I wanted to do it, is because I actually enjoy the meeting. They speak about the role of God in the life of the child, and show us a quick movie on the importance of tradition in the everyday activity of the family. Besides, it's an hour of quiet, in the middle of a busy week, and it helps keep me centered a bit.
Last night the priest spoke of life being a real mystery to our children, and he explained that we, as parents, help them unravel the mystery a bit by molding them and shaping them in the traditions that we learned as children. I've always understood the responsibility of being a parent and leading by example, but from time-to-time, we all slip a little.
My wife had no way of knowing that I was secretly looking forward to the church meeting.
Of course, there is also one other bonus. At the end of the service they shut down all the lights in the church and illuminate just the crucifix and the stained glass window above the crucifix. Music blares over the loud speakers and your child sits in your lap as the words of "A Parents Prayer" wraps you up.
As I sat there last night I thought of sitting with Matt as they played the song. I thought of holding onto Jake as the words bit into me, and Sam (although he couldn't sit still) actually held me tight as the song played. We've all enjoyed a good relationship, but the playing of that song seems to draw us even closer - at least that's how I imagine it.
"Close your eyes and feel the touch of your child," the priest said. "And children, close your eyes and feel Mom or Dad's arms around you."
I pressed my eyes closed and listened to the words of the song until I heard a giggle. Opening my eyes, I was looking directly into Sam's smiling face. "I can't believe you're listening to him," he whispered.
Yeah, well that's part of the mystery.
"Who do you want to go with you?" I asked Sam as he returned home from school yesterday afternoon.
"Actually, I like Mom better," he said. "So let's go with her."
Sam is nothing if not honest, but I feigned hurt. "I always take the kids to this," I said. "Mom has to help with homework and do stuff here, I'll take you."
The reason why I wanted to do it, is because I actually enjoy the meeting. They speak about the role of God in the life of the child, and show us a quick movie on the importance of tradition in the everyday activity of the family. Besides, it's an hour of quiet, in the middle of a busy week, and it helps keep me centered a bit.
Last night the priest spoke of life being a real mystery to our children, and he explained that we, as parents, help them unravel the mystery a bit by molding them and shaping them in the traditions that we learned as children. I've always understood the responsibility of being a parent and leading by example, but from time-to-time, we all slip a little.
My wife had no way of knowing that I was secretly looking forward to the church meeting.
Of course, there is also one other bonus. At the end of the service they shut down all the lights in the church and illuminate just the crucifix and the stained glass window above the crucifix. Music blares over the loud speakers and your child sits in your lap as the words of "A Parents Prayer" wraps you up.
As I sat there last night I thought of sitting with Matt as they played the song. I thought of holding onto Jake as the words bit into me, and Sam (although he couldn't sit still) actually held me tight as the song played. We've all enjoyed a good relationship, but the playing of that song seems to draw us even closer - at least that's how I imagine it.
"Close your eyes and feel the touch of your child," the priest said. "And children, close your eyes and feel Mom or Dad's arms around you."
I pressed my eyes closed and listened to the words of the song until I heard a giggle. Opening my eyes, I was looking directly into Sam's smiling face. "I can't believe you're listening to him," he whispered.
Yeah, well that's part of the mystery.
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