My mom and I have kept the nursery a few times this year already at church and we always seem to have the preschoolers. Not the bed babies which are easier, but the preschoolers. The ones you actually have to entertain. :)
I won't go into the story of walking into the classroom after the Sunday School teacher had been there and there were 10 cans of play dough out for 4 kids in a carpet room. I mean seriously...
I digress though. One time I had to employ 2 other people in the church to help me. We had quite a few that evening, about 12 preschoolers. That's a job in itself!! I have a point to this blog, I promise.
In the class, there were these 2 little girls..probably 4 or 5 years of age. But they were very quiet and weren't the "favorites" amongst the other children nor the other people in the room. My heart seems to always cleave to these kind of individuals. Call me weird, but ones that others cast out seem to be my favorite.
Well I am always the story reader whenever I have to keep the nursery. I've had 5 kids in my lap at a time while reading a book and had to ask them to turn the pages because I couldn't reach my arms around all of them. Yes that would have been a great picture. But these 2 little girls always seemed to bring more books and would want to be as close to me as possible even when they were in my lap. Let me paint the picture of these girls. They smelled of smoke, dirt, sweat and their appearance fit the smell. When there is clear dirt on a child's face and they're not anywhere near dirt, it can tug at one's heartstrings.
So at one point and time I had one of the girls in my lap and she's rested against my chest listening as I read. It was difficult to breath in because the smoke smell is overwhelming. I look over at the other people in the room with me and they are trying to disguise the fact that they don't approve of these girls. They are talking about who their parents are and saying how the children don't know any better because "look at who their parents are". At one point and time, one of the girls handed something to the one of the individuals and she took it as though it was soaked in toxic chemicals. She quickly brought it over to the counter to disinfect it. The little girl didn't quite understand, but I'm sure she picked up on the woman's body language.
This made me think.... I am just like those little girls. I go out, I get dirty, I smell, I am filthy and all I want to do is climb up in my Father's lap to hear Him speak love over me and remind me of His promises. I am His child. I want to ignore the fact that I have sin, but it's evident to Him. Just as I tried to straighten that little girl's hair while she was in my lap, my Father tries to "fix me up". He wipes away my tears, cleans the dirt (sin) off my face, takes away my smell of the sin and makes me clean and righteous.
The Father's lap is such a place of peace and rest. When You are resting against His chest, listening to Him, knowing He's your protector and warrior.... *BIG SIGH*
The Father's lap is a place of security and is love in itself. Why would we want to be anywhere else?
The other people who were in the room are just like the people in the world. They look on me, ridicule me, tell me I have no place in coming to the Lord in the shape that I'm in. Isn't God good that He doesn't make us clean up our act before we can come to Him? It makes me want to open my arms to all...but then again, isn't that what the Lord wants from us?
Lord, if I never do anything "amazing" in the eyes of the world, may I always love on those that You send to me. May they feel Your love through my love for them.