Tuesday, December 16, 2008

You (hopefully don't) light up my church

We got a call tonight from our minister. He asked Jill and Seth if they would like to do the scripture reading and light the candle on the Advent wreath at the church service on Sunday morning. Sunday, which also just happens to be The Brat's 18th birthday. She's been lamenting her lack of exciting birthday plans for the past month, and how we must not love her that much, because we aren't throwing her a party/buying her a big present/insert anything that would seem big and/or special to an 18yo girl. Well, Pastor Bob took care of that. She will now have the rapt attention of the entire church, while having fire in her hand.

Our family lit the candle at church one time years ago, when Seth was still a toddler. All five of us standing up there, which meant that we had to keep the two oldest corralled while keeping Seth from setting the church on fire. We knew not to trust him even then -- the kid has serious pyro tendencies, to the point where, after our house fire, we took all three kids to the Firestop program, henceforth referred to in our house as the "anti pyromaniac program."

Jill and Thomas were mad that I made them go. "Seth's the one lighting things on fire. Why are WE here?" "Because I said so." "But Mom, we know not to do that stuff? Why do we have to sit through this?" "Because I said so." You get my drift. Two unfortunate draftees and one reforming pyro, who sat through the whole program, listening intently. Heck, all these years later, that kid can still quote some of the things they said. And though he still loves fire, he hasn't tried to light the house up anytime lately.

I hope that is still true after Sunday's service. I think that the first time we lit the Advent wreath, Thomas lit the Advent wreath with Dan's help. I do remember that Jill did the prayer. She practiced all week by randomly climbing up on any available chair and saying, very solemnly, "Let. Us. Pray," in a tone that was all business, and probably inherited from her grandpa, the Methodist minister. It kind of sounded like "let us pray, and you'd better be listening, or I'll come and yank your sorry butt outta that pew by your ear and make you sit up here by me and bow your sorry head till I'm done talking. Amen."

Come to think of it, she hasn't really changed that tone much. I guess it all goes back to being the middle child, as well as being the only girl, sandwiched between two boys. Dan did mention when she was young that he didn't have any worries about boys messing with her. Said he was pretty sure if they did that she'd beat the hell outta them. He called it right when she was only about three. The man's a prophet. But I digress.

So my two youngest angels will be up there lighting the candle on Sunday, and we'll be there repeating history, still hoping they keep themselves corralled and don't set the church on fire. You'll know if you're in the right church when you hear the "I'm lighting it" being muttered in a sweet girl's voice, being responded to in kind by the adolescent boy's cracking tone saying that "you always get to do the good stuff. Why don't you let me do the cool stuff for once?"

"Because I said so."

Click here to buy this cool wreath, offered by Garden Devotions. Because I said so.

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