Sunday mornings I get to spend time with sweet little
three year olds. Three is one of my favorite ages because they say some of the
funniest things, eager to learn, full of life and have no filter. They have not
learned what is appropriate in a classroom setting or what it means to share toys, especially sharing with those
who are not their siblings.
The chaos of the Sunday morning church rush with these
little guys coming and going, playing, snacking and singing Jesus loves me to
complete the Sunday school experience is what I like to call controlled chaos
or crowd control, not teacher.
Promotion Sunday was a few weeks ago, where all the kids
get to move up to their new classes, new teachers, new room, new toys, and some
new friends. Getting these little 3’s to trust this new class is funny. Some
come in with huge eyes like it’s the biggest and best thing that has ever
happened to them. Some run in without saying bye to mom and dad straight to the amazing
spaceship on the other side of the room. And then there are the leg holders.
You know them, the ones that will not let go and think that they are entering
into something so miserable, thinking to themselves how could mommy and daddy ever leave
me here?
Change is hard for some of these sweet 3’s. The unknown of
the new class, its hard. Leaving mommies and daddies at the door is really really hard.
Mom and dad are comfortable, you know them and there is this mutual
understanding even at three, that they are safe. But when these little people look up to us new teachers
towering over them spouting off every toy that would make them want to stay,
loud noises from the other kids and the hustle and bustle of the hallway
traffic, it’s traumatic to those little heart of theirs. But when I knell down
to his or her level and talk with a calming voice hey buddy! welcome to
the new class my name is Ashley and if you need anything while you are here, you
just ask me, ok?. There is a change in that moment, a trust that its going
to be ok... letting go of daddies leg wont be that bad after all.
As I tried to control the chaos the response from the
children got me to thinking. When I stood across the room yelling Jacob,
please hand back that toy, Jacob…Jacob..JACOB HAND BACK THAT TOY, THAT YOU TOOK
FROM JOHN. Only to get louder JACOB,
seriously hand the toy over its not your turn. He only responded when he
wanted to respond, half heartily listening, very content in making his classmate
miserable and crying because he was robed of his precious toy (a toy he will probably
forget about in less than two minutes) but in that moment it was the world to
this little guy. When I went
over to Jacob, knelt down and said Jacob
let me see your eyes. He stopped, looked at me and engaged in what I was
saying. Jacob this toy was Johns, when we
just take from someone it hurts their feelings, because he was not done with
his turn. When John is done with his turn he would love to give it to you, can
you hand it back to John please. Jacob returns the toy, john goes to play
and they both forget this even happened 1.5 minutes later.
There is a theme from this Sunday morning flashback and it
wasn’t till I was walking around my neighborhood later that evening did the
lord impress it on my heart. Jesus loves children, he talks about them all the
time, and commands us often to learn from them, having a childlike faith. As I was walking and reflecting I
thought to myself there was power in
knelling. My posture before these children drastically changed how they
received information, how they handled conflict, how they responded by letting
go of daddies leg. Me shouting
across the room to Jacob to give back that toy was me wanting a change of
behavior, a quick fix, controlling chaos. His response was, he did not care to
listen and tuned me out, he did not care about the feelings of those around him,
he had the toy he wanted and so he was good. But when I was face to face with
him, he listened, he heard, and responded out of compassion of the friends
feelings rather than I want what is best
for me.
That’s me in that little three year old. I want what I
want and I’m very content to do what I need to do to get it. That’s me half
heartedly listening, but not really caring much about what is being said.
That’s me throwing a tantrum at the door because I am scared and don’t want to
leave what is comfortable and safe. That’s me clinching to daddies leg not
trusting where he is taking me is good and safe.
No Buddha, hindu gods, or ancient spirits come down and pursue us. No other religion did God
become fully man and dwell among us.
So thankful for the ways God lovingly meets us where we are, knelling, not towering over or
delegating from his throne. Face to Face,
not passive or heartless. A God who listens
and hears, very engaged, fully
attentive. He is not frustrated by our nagging, not just wanting to quickly fix me
to be done with me. A God who feels and
has emotion, and who cares. He so cares about my feelings and wants and
desires. He weeps with those who
weeps and rejoice with those who rejoice. In the same way Jacob and I rejoiced
with hugs and high fives after he willingly handed back the toy. God rejoices
over the little victories and the mundane.
So what does this little sunday morning flashback mean now? It causing me to ask myself the hard questions...
So how am I posturing myself before the Lord? Am I half heartily listening? Am I playing the role of God or daughter? Do I see God as
a symbol,(like a Buddha who is lifeless) rather than a person? What holds me
back from being face to face with the lord? What does getting face to face with the lord look like for me? Do I believe that God cares about
the little victories and the mundane? How am I becoming more like Jesus and less like this world?
Thank you Jesus that you are in the process of making all things new, not all new things. Thankful that you use little moments with three year olds to show me more of yourself, and that you care enough to get face to face with your children.
