An Advent Story
It was the second Sunday of Advent. My boys had been asked to read scripture in the worship service. A common practice at Cornerstone, but still a moment to make a parent proud.
They were reading one after the other and asked if they should go up on stage together. Knowing the dangers of such a combination, I needlessly gave in to my thoughts of how perfect that would be.
The ten year old read first, maintaining composure and concentration. I saw my twelve year-old’s focus shifting from scripture to all the things that can run through a boys mind at such an age. His passage was not too long, but also not too short. As he stepped to the podium, he had what I hoped would be enough composure to make it through. My ten year-old had stepped back and was still on the stage, his composure quickly fading.
The twelve year-old began, but the giggles came. Precariously teetering between childhood and adolescence, he stopped reading. He tried to begin again, but suddenly realized that he had lost his place. All eyes were in his direction. What to do? He laid down his head and hoped the proverbial hole would open in the floor that would swallow him up. The tears of frustration and embarrassment came.
From my pew just a few rows from the stage, I wanted to rush to the front and sweep him up. Rescue him as all moms are prone to do. But I felt God’s Spirit speak to me and say, “Wait. Watch. A life lesson best learned here is about to take place.”
My perfectionist, defeatist preteen was about to learn about failure and unconditional love. The kind of love sent from Heaven to Earth in a manger. The kind of love exhibited by my church family.
Dad came from the choir and put his arm around his son. “Let’s read this together,” he said. But the son was too devastated to continue. The dad read and then the son retreated from the stage to the pew, head buried in his sweater.
As he sat in the pew, still wishing for the hole to appear and planning his retreat to the vehicle immediately following the service, I sat praying and thanking God for my church family. I knew what was going to happen after the benediction.
As soon as the pastor blessed us, I turned my son to me and told him that some people may want to hug him and talk to him and that he needed to stay. He balked at the idea. But I insisted, saying, “You need to let them love on you.”
I no more had finished when he became enveloped in the first hug. With more hugs, tears, encouragement, and other’s own stories of such happenings, our church family loved him back to laughter.
On the second Sunday of Advent we light the candles of hope and peace. On the second Sunday of Advent, my twelve year-old learned these words in a new way.
Cornerstone Family,
This year, the Sarver family is giving you a Christmas story. A story you have helped to write.
Few of you may realize all that truly happened the second Sunday of Advent. You may not realize until you read the story that God was working in miraculous ways in our midst.
Thank you for being Cornerstone.
Thank you for allowing your heart to be His manger.
With love,
The Sarver Family
They were reading one after the other and asked if they should go up on stage together. Knowing the dangers of such a combination, I needlessly gave in to my thoughts of how perfect that would be.
The ten year old read first, maintaining composure and concentration. I saw my twelve year-old’s focus shifting from scripture to all the things that can run through a boys mind at such an age. His passage was not too long, but also not too short. As he stepped to the podium, he had what I hoped would be enough composure to make it through. My ten year-old had stepped back and was still on the stage, his composure quickly fading.
The twelve year-old began, but the giggles came. Precariously teetering between childhood and adolescence, he stopped reading. He tried to begin again, but suddenly realized that he had lost his place. All eyes were in his direction. What to do? He laid down his head and hoped the proverbial hole would open in the floor that would swallow him up. The tears of frustration and embarrassment came.
From my pew just a few rows from the stage, I wanted to rush to the front and sweep him up. Rescue him as all moms are prone to do. But I felt God’s Spirit speak to me and say, “Wait. Watch. A life lesson best learned here is about to take place.”
My perfectionist, defeatist preteen was about to learn about failure and unconditional love. The kind of love sent from Heaven to Earth in a manger. The kind of love exhibited by my church family.
Dad came from the choir and put his arm around his son. “Let’s read this together,” he said. But the son was too devastated to continue. The dad read and then the son retreated from the stage to the pew, head buried in his sweater.
As he sat in the pew, still wishing for the hole to appear and planning his retreat to the vehicle immediately following the service, I sat praying and thanking God for my church family. I knew what was going to happen after the benediction.
As soon as the pastor blessed us, I turned my son to me and told him that some people may want to hug him and talk to him and that he needed to stay. He balked at the idea. But I insisted, saying, “You need to let them love on you.”
I no more had finished when he became enveloped in the first hug. With more hugs, tears, encouragement, and other’s own stories of such happenings, our church family loved him back to laughter.
On the second Sunday of Advent we light the candles of hope and peace. On the second Sunday of Advent, my twelve year-old learned these words in a new way.
Cornerstone Family,
This year, the Sarver family is giving you a Christmas story. A story you have helped to write.
Few of you may realize all that truly happened the second Sunday of Advent. You may not realize until you read the story that God was working in miraculous ways in our midst.
Thank you for being Cornerstone.
Thank you for allowing your heart to be His manger.
With love,
The Sarver Family
posted by the sojourning pilgrim at
2:52 PM
2 Comments:
So beautifully written! And a wonderful lesson learned. I'm sure he's seen several of us cry up there on the stage but it's gotta be different from a pre-teen's point of view. Thanks for reminding us all just what an awesome family we have!
Ah my dear Sarvers, you teach us so much with your children. And yes we have all been down this road...I see so much of the pontious boys in the antics of the sarver boys...it is wonderful to share the joy...grin
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