The church we’ve been attending is a brand new start-up holding services in an old fancy furniture store. My Daniel and I sit up in the balcony where we can see the entire ‘sanctuary’ floor and stage, as well as the sign in tables for the kids’ classes sitting outside their classroom doors.
For the past several weeks, about two songs into worship, I’ve noticed a family arriving. Mom with four boys, the youngest about five. I watch as mom signs little boy up to go into his Sunday school while he has a serious anxiety attack behind her. He seems absolutely freaked out and unwilling to leave his mother as he clings to her legs, pleads with her, shakes his head, tenses up his little hands.
Now this, through my untrained eyes, does not look like a temper tantrum or any other attention-getting reaction. This poor kid is afraid. Even when a nice volunteer lady comes out to escort him in, he panics.
By the way, he doesn’t do this audibly. I mean, he doesn’t disrupt the service going on at all.
He eventually goes in. And I don’t see him until the next week when the same scene occurs.
Well this past Sunday, we are singing song two, I look down, and there’s the family. This time, however, two huge differences meet my eyes.
First, Dad is with them, and is the one signing little boy up for his class.
Second, little boy is calm as a cucumber. No crying, shaking, hiding, trembling. He even proudly puts the sticky name badge on the front of his shirt himself. He walks right in to class unassisted. No problems.
Let me tell you, I got tears in my eyes! I wanted to cheer for him, ‘Way to go! You did it!” I wanted to throw the little tyke a party. Somehow, at some point, he conquered his fear!
Now, I have no idea what happened, of course. As far as I can tell, mom is no monster. She was quite patient with him without being coddling. I mean, he always eventually had to go into the class after she reassured him with hugs and kisses.
But for some reason, I get this feeling that the change hinged on the fact that Dad stood by his side.
It got me thinking.
There’s a lot of stuff we have to do in this life. And we don’t always want to do it. We may even throw a fit from time to time. But if the Father is standing next to us, if we allow Him to usher us to and through the responsibilities of life, then somehow they just don’t seem as scary.
The Father’s presence equals Peace.
So, while I’m privately rejoicing for this kid I don’t even know, I’m also thanking God for him and his example to me, as well as taking time to sense the ever-present Peace of my Father God.
Peace to you, my Dry Ground friends!