It was communion service. In our church, we have the very quiet time when the bread and juice is being passed around, and we all have a few moments of silent prayer to contemplate what Jesus has done for us....
I must confess that as a mother of four wiggly kids sitting in service, I actually do very little of contemplating what Jesus has done for us and spend most of my time frantically begging God to please, please let them be quiet for communion and please, please not let my tired thirsty little ones start whining as to why they can't have grape juice too, since "I'm thirsty too, and I KNOW Jesus died, so I CAN remember it!"
So we all sat there in quiet prayer, and it seemed as if God was answering my desperate pleas. Four silent children sat near me. So silent, in fact, that number three got tired. He stretched a little in his seat, yawned some, and turned to lean up against me and rest. He sighed as he snuggled in against my side, and rested his head on my breast - for a brief second. Then his little head popped up in surprise and discovery. He leaned over and poked my breast with one finger, jumped back a little, and said, "hmmphf, that feels just like jello!
And yes - loud enough for a few rows to hear... we were, after all, having silent prayer!
All I could think as I turned red and tried to bury my giggles in reverent prayer was that I was at least glad that the man seated behind me had four young children of his own. He looked reverent, too, as silent tears ran down his face during the prayer time. In fact, a few people sitting near me must have all been simultaneously convicted of sins as tears ran down many cheeks and heads bowed deeper and shoulders shook in quiet sobs... or was that giggles?