"Let the Little Children Come!"

In our family, we're convinced kids have a direct line to God. Our sixth grandchild will be born this week (we are SO excited!), and undoubtedly, the first time she stares and involuntarily smiles straight ahead at nothing we can see, someone will say, "She's smiling at the angels. She just left there, you know." And there will follow a brief discussion of other times we were made certain that God and His heavenly helpers stay close by these precious innocent ones.

Like the time Viève and I were "shell-pickin'" on the beach and talking about how much God loves us to give us such wondrous treasures. "You really do love us so much, God, don'tcha!?" she exclaimed when we dug out our first sand dollar of the day. Then immediately in a hushed, amazed tone she looked up at me and gasped, "Gigi! He said, "Yes, I really DO!" I must tell you, when a child says something like that, you don't just laugh it off. I'm still pondering that one.

We witnessed something similar this morning at church. Our whole family went to Lauren and Adam's church because Simone (the youngest grandchild for five more days), was being formally dedicated. Adam's family was also there, and together we took up two full pews. Invariably when we are together like that, no child sits with his or her respective parent. They either choose an aunt or uncle's lap, or an indulging grandparent's. I think they instinctively hope to avoid the proverbial finger snap from their own parent. After all, they rationalize, they are still being supervised... perhaps by someone who will let them get by with a tad more wiggle room, but supervised, nonetheless. Why are we always more lenient and grace-giving with other people's kids?

Such was the case this morning. Gray was on Uncle Adam's lap, Savannah was back bouncing between Aunt Jocelyn and Uncle Joel and her Grandma Linda, Berkley was wherever Simone was, and Genna was in front with Aunt Shannah. We were all singing during the Praise part of worship, and the kids got involved when there was a song they liked. Eyes were fixed on the big screen where the words were displayed, some people were clapping and praise was rising as we sang,

The heavens declare your greatness, the oceans cry out to you,

the mountains, they bow down before you, so I'll lift my voice

and I'll sing my praise to you!

By the time the chorus came around again, we looked down just in time to see Genna bust out into the aisle and begin dancing and twirling spontaneously with her head tilted back and the biggest smile on her face as if to say, "Look at me, Jesus! I'm dancin for YOU!" Shannah and I exchanged a familiar glance before she gently and appropriately guided her back into our area. Embarrassed, Genna buried her head into Aunt Shannah's shoulder and I saw Shannah whisper something tenderly into her ear that made Genna smile her eye-squinching grin. Now some people may say three-year-olds aren't big enough to understand what is going on in church. This is the same three-year-old, however, who later was busy coloring the bulletin while the pastor spoke of a conversation between God and the shepherd boy David. She looked up and said, "That David wasn't being a very good listener, was he?" Multi-tasking by a three-year-old.

As the song ended, I leaned over and told Shan it was sad we had to stop Genna because her little outburst no doubt made God's buttons pop. "That's exactly what I told her. 'Genna, do you know who loved your dance more than anything? Jesus did!" And Genna smiled a knowing smile only a child could truly understand.