Okay actually it’s a crawler (you say po-TAY-to and I’ll say po-TAH-to, then just call the whole thing off.)
I was sitting in the first church service of the new year, when the six month old from the pew In front of me made a break for it.
Frankly, I knew exactly how he felt. It’s not that I don’t feel uplifted when I’m at church. I’m often touched and inspired by spending the time in my devotion.
Like that cute little six-month old, I want to make a break from my responsibilities. Shake off the rules and restrictions that seem to come with adulthood. Like the line of loving hands that corralled the sweet little boy to return him to his parents, I’m corralled by my Father in Heaven. Not to limit me, but to simply keep me safe.
Do I feel limited? No, instead I feel a liberation with an occasional urge to pull a run under the pews just to see if I can make the exit. Even if I did make the exit and walk through, I know that I would be welcomed back.
I still take risks, I still push limits, but there is a comfort in knowing there is a loving guide in my life.