Wild Child of Grace

I'm ailing again, so please forgive me if this post isn't as coherent as it should be. I simply can't seem to stay well these days.

Yesterday my son, E., and my daughter, A., were in the children's Christmas production at our church. E. had a speaking role and performed it beautifully. A. was in the chorus.

In the past, A. has had problems with speech development, his temper and paying attention. He has improved greatly in the past year, but still has occasional flareups. So I was a little concerned about how he would do in the show.

On Saturday, at the next-to-last practice, he was perfect. So I started to relax. Too soon. On Sunday E. had the squirmies.

The Children's Minister had directed everyone to stand still and keep their eyes on the audience. This was lost on E. He sat down. He stood up. He watched himself on the screen next to the altar. He looked everywhere but in front.

I really started to worry when he noticed the scenery behind him. A flat piece of wood with a musical score on it started to shake. I began to envision what would happen when it fell.

I was embarrassed, but I love my son, and I know the other church members love him too. They proved that when he was hospitalized two months ago.

Then something struck me. It was one of those little moments of grace that happen to us from time to time. I thought to myself, the nice, easy-going people of the world seldom oppose the entire religious, political and social structure. Jesus never sinned, of course, but the strength of character he showed must have come from somewhere. Maybe, just maybe Mary had a few moments like this with Jesus.

Everything worked out. The backdrop didn't fall, and both children received many compliments. Before the next church production I'll have a talk with E. about standing still and looking at the audience. But in the meantime I'm going to cherish this child of grace. Grace that is sometimes difficult to receive, but grace nonetheless.