Leap of Faith: Michael v. Church, part 157

posted in: Acceptance, Kids, Parenting | 11

Oh, Michael.

Parents are sometimes told, “what goes around, comes around”…most often by their own parents who see the misbehavior of children as some kind of karmic payback for the grief they themselves caused growing up. I fully admit that Grace is giving me a taste of my own youthful willfulness and dramatics, but Michael? By default, the blame for Michael’s actions must lie with my husband. Which also means that many, many, many stories about his childhood were conveniently kept silent from me before I sired children with him. I hereby make the claim of false advertisement. But I guess it is too late to do anything about it. I will nobly soldier on, and tell you my latest story in the meantime.

Jesus resurrection
Does this mean Jesus is cool with a little hang time?

Know this to be true: Michael and Church do not mix very well. They have had numerous battles during his short four years of life, mostly dealing with Church’s requirement of silence and Michael’s aversion to it. And there was that time he drank from the holy water font like a dog.

Well, at mass this past Sunday, our family was responsible for bringing up the Offertory gifts. I can almost hear a sympathetic “oh no” at the foreboding that statement instills in those of you who have read about Michael’s past exploits. Let me quickly assure you that neither the wine nor the Communion hosts ended up on the floor, thankfully. But that was only because the usher very wisely handed Michael the giant basket of the weekly collection to take up to the priest. And Michael likely accepted it without protest because it was the biggest item, therefore the best item. The procession up the aisle was actually incident-free, as was the hand-off of the goods. But while the rest of the family bowed in reverence toward the crucifix, Michael whipped around and took a running leap down all three of the altar steps, landing with the smacking sound of his “church shoes” against the marble floor. Awesome. 

After mass was over, one of the ushers came up and thanked me for volunteering to take up the gifts. “You got quite the little comedian there,” he teased. I guess I can be thankful that my embarrassment serves as a source of chuckles for others…and that I believe in a God who is truly forgiving.

11 Responses

  1. Laura Strickland

    My sister-in-law often complains that she should have read my brother’s baby book before they got married and had kids;) There’s lots of information that I’m keeping quiet about with my boys until they are off, married, and the grandkids are already here. And considering all the things that could have happened during offertory, it’s not so bad;)

    • I guess now as a mother I understand the need for keeping that stuff hush hush. And you are right…the Offertory really could have gone much worse. Much much worse.

  2. Love your posts! So I nominated you for th Liebster blog award!

    • You are the sweetest!!! Thank you so much! Wow, my very first award. That is super cool. And if I wasn’t such a slacker lately about reading blogs, I would have noticed that you wrote about that a few days ago. And you are going to be on the radio??? Congrats! What a great push for your book!

  3. I have a little grandson that sounds just like your little boy.They keep you on your feet don’t they?

  4. My little Michael?? I can only believe it! Christ said,”Suffer the little children to come to me.” I guess the “suffer” was for the childrens’ parents.
    I guess I have a little amnesia about some of my kids youthful behavior. Maybe that means we have all made it just fine and we remember the good times and forget the painful ones!
    Keep up the good work with those kids.

    • Oh I know that is just so hard for his grandma to believe! 😉 I do think you are onto something with that suffering thing. But I don’t buy for one minute that you had amnesia…I know it was all a plot to get yourself some grandkids. But I am okay with it…they are pretty cute.

  5. […] Mass began with the first reading from the Book of Mom’s Sleepy Time Tales of The Story of Three Billy Goats Gruff (cue the Church Lady: “Was it a troll, or could it be SATAN?”), followed by a second reading of a poem about band-aids. Then we were treated to a poem called “Chester” from the Gospel of Shel Silverstein, after which Grace gave her homily: “I have no idea what that’s about.” Honest, simple, and short. My kind of homily. Even Michael found himself entertained, which rarely happens with him at church. […]

  6. […] my religion, other than to talk about why we chose Catholic school for our children, my son’s ongoing battle with church etiquette, and the time I witnessed my kids taking liberties with the sacrament of First Communion. Even […]

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