...suffer the little children to come unto me....-Mark 10:14b
A joyful sound rings out in the sanctuary on Sunday mornings. It is not the singing or the prayers or the sound of God's Word being faithfully preached, though there are all these.
It is the sound of life. the sound of growth, the voices of babes and infants.
It might be thought to be distracting, but shouldn't it be a reminder of God's blessing that there are young families with young moms and dads committed to raising their babies in the midst of God's worship?
I am too often distracted, I find, in the midst of the Sunday service. But it is not the cries of babies that diverts my attention but my own foolish and wandering mind.
Random thoughts, a word here, a phrase there, spoken or sung during worship starts me drifting.
Nothing, certainly not the restlessness of a two year-old can be as disconcerting as to realize I've missed an important point in the sermon due to my wool-gathering.
A dear Christian friend once shared that she used to go home weeping after struggling through the service with her young child.
Prayers then, for the dedicated parents who desire to raise their precious children in the nurture and admonition of the Lord.
And continued prayers for myself, that I not be distracted by bright and shiny things of my imagination from the sustenance I need and seek.
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