Having Fun in the Sanctuary
Here I am to worship.
Here I am to bow down.
Here I am to re-member.
The praise team begins to sing.
And mini beach balls and bean bags and frisbees sail through the air.
In the sanctuary.
And people sing and laugh.
And. Have. Fun.
In the sanctuary.
“Because,” he says, “Christians don’t always seem like they’re having fun.”
He reads from Psalm 33:3. “Sing to him a new song; play skillfully, and shout for joy.”
And he has us shout for joy.
Then he juggles some beanbags.
He says he does it when his thoughts get stuck.
And it’s relaxing. And, well, because it’s fun.
He talks about a wedding and some water and some wine, and I wonder if Jesus stood back and smiled at His little joke. The “joke” that only He and the servants shared. And His mother. I wonder if He winked at her.
Jesus was serious, he says, but He also had a playful spirit.
Grace is coloring a picture of some Easter eggs, an insert that was in the bulletin. But then so are many of the adults, using the crayons that have been passed down the pews as we celebrate color, and light shines through stained glass.
And my husband, he smells a little like peanut butter. Because he chose a Reese’s cup from the basket of treats that made its away around the congregation. (Yes, that’s a Twinkie.)
He’s been preaching a series on Rest, Refresh, and Renew.
“Come to me all who are weary and heavy-laden, and I will give you rest,” Jesus said.
Give it up. Quit trying to be so strong. Learn to live light and free.
Have some fun.
And fun is good for our health.
We are quiet now as we take time to remember those in need of prayer.
We sing a new song that the worship leader has written.
And I am re-membered.
Pausing to give thanks for . . .
This wild and crazy-colorful world.
Chalk drawings on the concrete.
Red-winged blackbirds and the first robins.
That strep throat has been banished.
A prayer request written by a nine-year-old hand and slipped into the offering basket.
Warm chocolate chip cookies.
Ann Voskamp for seeding my heart with the flower of re-membering.
A God who delights over me with joy.
Joining Laura and Laura and Michelle and Ann in community today.