Diapers at the Altar

 There’s a storm comin’!  I tell you a storm!” Pastor yelled, pounding the pulpit.  “ARE YOU READY?”

The congregation shouted Amen, Praise the Lord…waking Emily from her nap on the pew.  

 

 

Mama was standing, being one of the Amen group.

Emily rolled and then planted her chubby little feet on the maple floor.  The walking thing was still iffy, but she had the crawl-ing down.  Distance to the pulpit wasn’t far at all, and at a fast crawl, Emily could cover it before Mama noticed.

And, off she took, under pews, between legs, around feet, past purses.  Oh, Emily knew she was fearless, and this would be another time she found freedom, with her white diaper bottom wagging behind.

“Can you make a joyous noise to the Lord??” Pastor roared. Cue the organist, who joined in with a chorus from different hymns.

Emily reached the pulpit and pulled herself up, pounding on the cross.

Source

  “Root out sin!  Let joy rise as a fragrance to the Lord!” He raised his arms, pointing to heaven.

Emily plopped down on her bottom, onto a loaded and ripe diaper.  You betcha!  Emily clapped and cooed as Mama came running.

Thank you, Elephant's Child  at its original form for providing the bold underlined italicized words!  She tossed 6 to 12 words out at writers to take up a challenge in their writing each week. 

 

For the month of April the words burst from the mind of messymimismeanderings Should be good!

This is a 2015 post. 

Wherever we go, there are some amazingly cute precious babies. I look at the parents with a smile, pat my chest                                                                                    and say "Grandma". They smile.

 

I remember a blogger writing about a child in her church doing something similar, but way more adventurous.

The Battle for Humanity

 

The old church was a lovely peaceful place to worship with its great acoustics: wood plank floor, white plastered walls, oak pews, and vaulted wood ceiling.

Many worshipers found peace here....

Sounds bounced around that sanctuary.  Music, whispers from the back row, giggles from teenagers, and even the crinkle of a candy wrapper were  heard by the congregants.

A young family found a spot in the third row from the altar.  Coming late made the front pews the only ones open.  The three children settled in for the sermon. The oldest girl went to sit with a friend, while the mother took the fussy baby girl to the adjoining nursery where she could hear the sermon through the intercom.

The father smiled benignly through most of the sermon before dropping off to sleep. This was not uncommon, but usually the wife gave him the elbow jab.  Not today.

That left the three-year old boy who found enjoyment with his double-jointed fingers and his imagination.  Fingers could become galloping horses or speeding race cars.  Today his fingers were alien spaceships.  They were engaged in a fierce battle.

catching some zzzz

My husband is legendary is his ability to drop off to sleep in church.

As the struggle for space domination heated up, the boy stood up to use the back ledge of the second row pew to help better stage the drama. 

Sweet Grandma House always sat there in the second row pew.  People who visited the church often commented on this saintly woman with her fluffy white hair and lovely pink hat. Bless her heart; Grandma House was blind, and nearly deaf.  She could just hear the sermon if she sat in that spot, with her hearing aid cranked up high.

Sweet little boy

The little boy situated himself directly behind her precious white head, and resumed the space battle. 

Zooommm.  Ch-ch-ch-ch!  Aaaaaa…kabooooom!  Crashhhhhh.  The fingers/spaceships faced off on either side of the white hair, pink hat planet.

The fingers/spaceships met at the pinnacle of the hat, and collided in a glorious explosion.  Kerrrr-aasshhhh!  Nooooo…ker-ploom!  P-shhhhhhh! 

The congregation held its breath, watching the battle, and waiting for the space debris to shower down on Grandma House's head.  The pastor had paused to allow the dying alien fighters some dignity.

The final notes of music filled the church just about then.  Church ended.

Dear Grandma House stood and turned around.  “What a precious family you have,” she smiled to the young couple.  “So quiet!” Then she handed the boy a car she had caught during a battle.

Smirk sounds trailed after the family.

Many glorious sounds reach to the heavens....

If you have ever been in a church where a little boy is having a space battle, let me know. I have witnessed such. 

This is a repost from September 2012. We will be visiting our son and family in Chicago.  One son is 3+ and 2nd son is 20 months.  We have never seen or held the baby, but we will enjoy space battles of their own. Their daddy was a conqueror.