Monday, November 2, 2015

Crying in church

My daughter caught me crying in church yesterday.

I work every Saturday night, and my Sundays are tough days. I choose to work every Saturday because it means I never work a Sunday. I get off work with enough time to get home, shower, help get the kids dressed, grab some dinner on the way and get to church. I fight to listen to every word preached without drifting to sleep, and sometimes I fail in that quest. Regardless, I end up entering Sunday morning physically tired, mentally taxed, and spiritually thirsty.

This Sunday was exceptionally so, with the time change, plus an emotionally trying night that included joining a family in singing Amazing Grace over their loved one as they lay dying in a beautiful moment, I was drained.

Though, I tend to be pretty emotionless in life (to a fault, probably), I am generally a mess when I get really tired. I was hopeful that yesterday wouldn't be a big problem though, it was the first sermon in a new series in Revelation. Introductory sermons are rarely the type that stir deep emotion. There was something else I did not account for... Lord's Supper

One of the most heart-wrenching things to go to on a good day, a trip to the Lord's table will generally make me grateful, introspectively aware of my continued depraved nature at war with the work of God in my life, and generally filled with a sense of purpose and peace.

The twist on this day: it was the first time that a handful of newly baptized brothers and sisters.were able to approach the table, and to top it off, one of them happened to be our pastor's daughter. Father-child relationships are always good for getting me a little misty eyed anyway, but to take this up a notch, the look on our pastor's face as he knelt down next to his daughter to pray with her before taking of each sacrament, I couldn't hold back tears. I wrapped my arms around my own little lady, sitting on my lap, and kissed her head, praying earnestly for the spirit to work in her own life and heart. I see signs in her life, even at her age, of work being done, a hunger for knowledge, a growing enjoyment of studying the word, and I long for the day when she first gets to taste the remembrance of her Savior's sacrifice, the foretaste of glory to come.

Tears welled up in that moment. She caught me, her sweet voice asking me if I was ok. It was hard to find the words to explain the range of feeling raging through me at that point. I explained the best I could that I was just thinking about the day to come when she would get to join us in the Supper. She wrapped her arms a little tighter around my neck and laid her head on my shoulder. She is growing so fast, and I know I have made many mistakes (with many more to come). But I hope I will manage to have the courage to continue to willingly cry in front of my children, and even more so to help them understand why. I hope both my kids grow up knowing that there are things in this life that are worth their tears.

No comments:

Post a Comment