Dacey drew that in church yesterday.
She makes my tree-hugging ways look half-hearted. I think her head might explode if we put a #2 plastic in the trash. This ode to creation care was entirely her own idea.
I thought surely she wasn't listening as she worked on her masterpiece, but bits and pieces of the sermon on the importance of serving others found their way into her ears. How do I know this? At one point, the preacher made the statement, "And we see this in Jesus' acts of service." Dacey turned her face up to me and asked in a stage whisper that would have made any Broadway Baby beam:
Jesus' act of circus? Is that true, mom? Was Jesus in the circus?
(cue muffled laughter from the pew behind us)
* * *
When we got home, nearly slammed the door on her sister and then bolted from the car, raced to the front door and commenced in the ritual of teasing and taunting Aliza. "I-I beat you. You-u didn't wi-in!"
I'm afraid the heart of the service message was lost on her.
And sometimes it gets lost on me, too, I suppose. All too often, I overthink the serving of others. Lost in an array of options, I do nothing. Or sometimes I don't think enough at all. I leave the house with My List and fasten earmuffs of indifference over my ears. I can't be interupted. Not today.
So I guess we're working out how this looks together, my little family and I. Our preacher made the statement yesterday that if we as the Body of Christ were fixated on serving others, lives would be radically changed. I've been fixated on far lesser causes, that's for sure.
Tightrope balance and spinning plates. Perhaps the circus insight was pretty darn accurate after all.
