Our first family communion
I am a mom who has a deep desire to share God's love with my kids. I want them to understand the wholeness of Jesus. I want them to fall deeper in love with Him than I am. I want them to do extreme work for His kingdom. And as a parent, my deepest desire is for my kids to experience Jesus. For all that He is. But I fail all of the time at this. I am a sinner. I try so hard to lead them by example. I pray daily for each kid; that they would know Jesus. But I'm messy. I'm literally a disaster. I get frustrated, argumentative, short tempered, and a lot of what the Lord says about "slow to anger" goes out the window when I have asked for the 400th time "would you please brush your teeth." (I'm glad the verse does not say never get angry, or I would consider myself even more unworthy than I am now to raise these kids).
Taking all of this knowledge of myself into consideration, I still did not let my heart from dreaming and picturing the perfect evening when I began to pray about having a family communion night.
I had it all planned out: candles, worship music, a time of prayer, thanksgiving, and of course a reading from scripture. I envisioned Jon; that he would speak eloquently from the Word. And that my kids would have their eyes shut, arms lifted high, praising Jesus during worship. It was going to be so spiritual. So deep. So good. I knew it.
They were even excited. I let them know on Wednesday that Friday would be communion night. They were so pumped. All week, we talked about how we were going to learn about the last supper, and about how Jesus laid his life down for us. Friday morning came, and Harrison was so excited to go to school, and as soon as he got home, he asked constantly: can we do it now?
I picked up some Mexican bread and grape juice at 7-11 on my way home from Jazzercise. When I got home with it, Jon's reaction was "so we are really going to do this?"
I gave the kids a bath, put Hallie to bed, turned out all of the lights downstairs, and lit all of the candles.
Henry started drinking the grape juice...the kids were running around, trying to eat the Mexican bread.
I calmly let them know it wasn't time, and to please grab the Bible.
I set up my Youtube with all of the worship music that I planned to have. I prayed, and started the music.
It was at this point that I realized; my vision of a life-altering evening of having the kids led into a deeper relationship with the Lord was not going to go as planned.
We prayed before worship, and Henry had almost finished his grape juice. As the worship music began, the kids asked for Michael Jackson. I sang my heart out with my eyes closed, and hands lifted up; only to be interrupted with about 5 million questions about what communion was.
Instead of playing my "set", we called the worship that I picked out quits at song 1, and turned on a Jana Alayra song with motions that they knew.
Still confused about why I had such crazy spiritual expectations of our 4 and 6 year old, Jon read from Luke, and tried his best to relay the story of Jesus' last meal with His disciples in a way that a 4 and 6 year old might understand.
Harrison was bouncing around, and Henry was trying to pick at the bread the entire time. But then something happened. In the midst of the twiddling of fingers, and seemingly not-so-perfect evening, Henry started talking about Jesus' love for us. And Harrison began to ask questions. I can't recount exactly what was said, but they suddenly became engaged. They trailed off into other stories, and didn't quite stay on task of exactly on the topic of the first communion, but we as a family had a good 3 minutes of talking about our Lord; without interruptions. In candle light. I let them know how important and Holy communion was. And we discussed that Jesus really needs to be in our hearts in order to take part in the supper. We prayed. We thanked God. We talked about asking for forgiveness of our sins. And as a family, we took the cup, gave thanks, and drank from it. And we took the bread as His body, and remembered Him. After we took communion, we prayed more. For our family, Hallie, grandparents. All the while, my boys were wiggly and random. Talking about Jesus, but then asking for a movie. And then, we blew out the candles to watch a movie.
What was supposed to be an evening filled with Jesus, turned into a 15 minute family activity. I anticipated such depth to come from our time with the Lord. In reality, we broke bread and remembered what Jesus did.
Whatever it was, or may be to them, it didn't turn out as expected.
I've been contemplating this evening for a while. I've tried to blog about it, but I couldn't quite wrap my head around the wisdom that I gained from it. I realize that the worst part about raising kids in a Christian home is that the kids are being raised by sinners. We mess up. We don't get it quite right. It's like what Paul said in Romans:
18For I know that nothing good dwells in me, that is, in my flesh; for the willing is present in me, but the doing of the good is not. 19For the good that I want, I do not do, but I practice the very evil that I do not want. 20But if I am doing the very thing I do not want, I am no longer the one doing it, but sin which dwells in me.…
And the biggest misinterpretation that I have as a parent is that my sin nature won't seep into the lives of my kids.
Not everything goes as planned, and life is not perfect. I think that so often I hold myself to a level of perfection as a Christian mom that is unattainable. My desire for my kids to know the Lord often trumps my desire to know the Lord. I want to do it right, but I fail. A lot. And things don't go the way that I expect. My kids are sinners. And I am a sinner. And Jon is a sinner.
It's a really big deal. It's life and death. Children being led to or away from their Creator by their parents, resting on the shoulders of their parents, has the potential to really screw someone up. And I feel a lot of time that I am doing more screwing up than not. And even when I do things to try to encourage them in the Lord, it doesn't quite go the way that I desire.
As I contemplate all of these things, I realize, that this is the best lesson. That I can't really do much to lead them to Christ; other than to press into Christ. I could potentially never yell at my kids, and "do" everything right. I could have bible studies, and communions, and take them to church all I want (and I do), but if I am not fully trusting God and not myself as I lead these monkeys in the Lord, then I am doing it all wrong.
I don't know what the evening of worship did in the lives of my kids. It may have done nothing. It may have been a waste. Disrespectful of the Lord's supper, even. I don't know what my taking them to church does. The occasional Bible study, or the conversations about Heaven. We study verses, we enroll them in Awana's. We do what we can. And we won't stop. But the reality is, we can do nothing, but trust Jesus that He is using it all to lead them to Him. And even then, they have their own will.It's their own relationship with the Lord. Not mine.
So I relinquish control. I obviously will have more nights of worship with my kids. I obviously will never give up giving them opportunities to experience who Jesus is. I could potentially do a really good job at it, but most likely, I will more than often fail. I recognize my sin as a mom. I realize that I am not up to par. But God is in me, and hopefully as I surrender, He will take over...And there is NOTHING better than Him taking over.
Romans 8:28
- And we know that all things work together for good to them that love
God, to them who are the called according to [his] purpose.
Taking all of this knowledge of myself into consideration, I still did not let my heart from dreaming and picturing the perfect evening when I began to pray about having a family communion night.
I had it all planned out: candles, worship music, a time of prayer, thanksgiving, and of course a reading from scripture. I envisioned Jon; that he would speak eloquently from the Word. And that my kids would have their eyes shut, arms lifted high, praising Jesus during worship. It was going to be so spiritual. So deep. So good. I knew it.
They were even excited. I let them know on Wednesday that Friday would be communion night. They were so pumped. All week, we talked about how we were going to learn about the last supper, and about how Jesus laid his life down for us. Friday morning came, and Harrison was so excited to go to school, and as soon as he got home, he asked constantly: can we do it now?
I picked up some Mexican bread and grape juice at 7-11 on my way home from Jazzercise. When I got home with it, Jon's reaction was "so we are really going to do this?"
I gave the kids a bath, put Hallie to bed, turned out all of the lights downstairs, and lit all of the candles.
Henry started drinking the grape juice...the kids were running around, trying to eat the Mexican bread.
I calmly let them know it wasn't time, and to please grab the Bible.
I set up my Youtube with all of the worship music that I planned to have. I prayed, and started the music.
It was at this point that I realized; my vision of a life-altering evening of having the kids led into a deeper relationship with the Lord was not going to go as planned.
We prayed before worship, and Henry had almost finished his grape juice. As the worship music began, the kids asked for Michael Jackson. I sang my heart out with my eyes closed, and hands lifted up; only to be interrupted with about 5 million questions about what communion was.
Instead of playing my "set", we called the worship that I picked out quits at song 1, and turned on a Jana Alayra song with motions that they knew.
Still confused about why I had such crazy spiritual expectations of our 4 and 6 year old, Jon read from Luke, and tried his best to relay the story of Jesus' last meal with His disciples in a way that a 4 and 6 year old might understand.
Harrison was bouncing around, and Henry was trying to pick at the bread the entire time. But then something happened. In the midst of the twiddling of fingers, and seemingly not-so-perfect evening, Henry started talking about Jesus' love for us. And Harrison began to ask questions. I can't recount exactly what was said, but they suddenly became engaged. They trailed off into other stories, and didn't quite stay on task of exactly on the topic of the first communion, but we as a family had a good 3 minutes of talking about our Lord; without interruptions. In candle light. I let them know how important and Holy communion was. And we discussed that Jesus really needs to be in our hearts in order to take part in the supper. We prayed. We thanked God. We talked about asking for forgiveness of our sins. And as a family, we took the cup, gave thanks, and drank from it. And we took the bread as His body, and remembered Him. After we took communion, we prayed more. For our family, Hallie, grandparents. All the while, my boys were wiggly and random. Talking about Jesus, but then asking for a movie. And then, we blew out the candles to watch a movie.
What was supposed to be an evening filled with Jesus, turned into a 15 minute family activity. I anticipated such depth to come from our time with the Lord. In reality, we broke bread and remembered what Jesus did.
Whatever it was, or may be to them, it didn't turn out as expected.
I've been contemplating this evening for a while. I've tried to blog about it, but I couldn't quite wrap my head around the wisdom that I gained from it. I realize that the worst part about raising kids in a Christian home is that the kids are being raised by sinners. We mess up. We don't get it quite right. It's like what Paul said in Romans:
18For I know that nothing good dwells in me, that is, in my flesh; for the willing is present in me, but the doing of the good is not. 19For the good that I want, I do not do, but I practice the very evil that I do not want. 20But if I am doing the very thing I do not want, I am no longer the one doing it, but sin which dwells in me.…
And the biggest misinterpretation that I have as a parent is that my sin nature won't seep into the lives of my kids.
Not everything goes as planned, and life is not perfect. I think that so often I hold myself to a level of perfection as a Christian mom that is unattainable. My desire for my kids to know the Lord often trumps my desire to know the Lord. I want to do it right, but I fail. A lot. And things don't go the way that I expect. My kids are sinners. And I am a sinner. And Jon is a sinner.
It's a really big deal. It's life and death. Children being led to or away from their Creator by their parents, resting on the shoulders of their parents, has the potential to really screw someone up. And I feel a lot of time that I am doing more screwing up than not. And even when I do things to try to encourage them in the Lord, it doesn't quite go the way that I desire.
As I contemplate all of these things, I realize, that this is the best lesson. That I can't really do much to lead them to Christ; other than to press into Christ. I could potentially never yell at my kids, and "do" everything right. I could have bible studies, and communions, and take them to church all I want (and I do), but if I am not fully trusting God and not myself as I lead these monkeys in the Lord, then I am doing it all wrong.
I don't know what the evening of worship did in the lives of my kids. It may have done nothing. It may have been a waste. Disrespectful of the Lord's supper, even. I don't know what my taking them to church does. The occasional Bible study, or the conversations about Heaven. We study verses, we enroll them in Awana's. We do what we can. And we won't stop. But the reality is, we can do nothing, but trust Jesus that He is using it all to lead them to Him. And even then, they have their own will.It's their own relationship with the Lord. Not mine.
So I relinquish control. I obviously will have more nights of worship with my kids. I obviously will never give up giving them opportunities to experience who Jesus is. I could potentially do a really good job at it, but most likely, I will more than often fail. I recognize my sin as a mom. I realize that I am not up to par. But God is in me, and hopefully as I surrender, He will take over...And there is NOTHING better than Him taking over.
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