Saturday, November 11, 2006

Fall Into The Arms Of Another...

Okay, so, here's the deal.

I promise you I have a backlog of journal entries (written by hand) that I mean to upload to this blog... eventually. I didn't mean to start this blog and leave everyone hanging immediately following. In fact, I had a nice little entry introducing my church and homechurch all lined up, but just haven't had the time.

So, after the levity (ooh, 5 points!) of my first official post, comes a lighter second entry, short and sweet.

To quickly clue in those who are out of the loop, I go to a church in Oakville called The Meeting House. Every second weekend I volunteer at the cafe, and every weekend opposite cafe weekends, I volunteer with the three-year-olds kidmax program (sunday school) during the early service. Why give up my every sunday morning? Here's a clue:

I. Love. These. Kids.

In the few short weeks that I've been involved in TMH, I think my 2 hours a month with the wee ones has been one of the most beneficial experiences I've had so far in my walk. Maybe it's because I'm seeing the world through new, childlike eyes myself, or maybe it's just because I such a little kid myself, but I've gained so many little insights into my relationship with God through them, as well as relationships with other people. This past Sunday was no exception:

Maybe it was the full moon, maybe it was the halloween candy. Whatever it was, the kids - all 10 of them - were just off the wall. Emma and I definitely had our hands full. In the midst of handing out snacks and trying to clean up an attempt at crafts, one of the quieter girls, Lauryn, bumped my leg and held up a book. "Will you wead this fow me?" She asked so softly I could barely hear here above the general din. I love reading (even kids books), so I told her of course, and asked her where she'd like to sit. Pulling my hand, she tugged me down to the middle of the playroom floor, and as I opened the book, and before I could do anything, she plopped herself down into my lap. Worry instantly flashed across my mind - was this okay? There are rules these days about teachers hugging students, worried parents analyzing every stranger's glance... I cast a meaningful look at Emma, but she was otherwise engaged. Shrugging inwardly, I opened the book, and began reading. Other children gathered around in a semi-circle, all hushed and gazing intently at the illustrations as I read, an effect that was not lost on me. But all the while as I read, Lauryn sat, unaware of the niggling little worry at the back of my head.

Thinking back on it tonight as I brushed my teeth, though, something struck me. How easy it was for her to trust me! How automatic, the desire to find comfort in the arms (or lap) of another person, bigger, stronger than her (at least, in the physical sense). How often do we as adults want, or even need, to seek out that same comfort, that same physical and emotional embrace? We have this concept of 'personal space', no-touching policy, this generally cold and unfeeling attitude. We. Must. Keep. Everything. In. Side. How much do we stifle basic human relationships this way?

How much do we stifle our relationship with God this way? We may accept Christ as Lord and Savior, dedicate our lives to serving Him and in Him... but when a time comes where our feet fail, our strength wanes, and we become racked with worry, do we turn to others, or especially to Christ, with open arms? Or do we curl up into ourselves, trying to hide away the guilt or pain? And are we, those who have suffered through hurts and sorrows, drawing close to us those who reach out?

Her trust and her want for closeness just blew me away.

His trust and His love brought me back home again.