You Who Are Weary

Today on the way to Mass, Finn was asking if it was okay to sleep at Church. I won't lie: I kind of encourage "Mass Naps" for my own perhaps less-than-holy reasons . . .
I told Finn that Jesus commanded his Apostles, the first priests, to let the children come to Him, that He loves it when we crawl into His lap and rest with Him because we are safe and at peace there. Being at Mass, right there in front of the Tabernacle with the Eucharist, I explained, is just like being right in the lap of Jesus with His arms tight around you. My son, who on a semi-regular basis likes to voice his scorn of sleep, and also likes to sit in the cry room with his toddler sister so he can be loud, said with great excitement in his voice, "I want to go right to the front of the church, right in the very front pew, so I can be the closest, and I'll just curl up right in Jesus' lap." And he did, right in the front pew. Curled right up next to me during the homily, and rested in His arms.

Suffer the Children
Ford Madox Brown

The last week or so has been kind of rough, and it's going to get rougher until this kid makes his/her exit-entrance. It always does, despite my best efforts. But that reminder, that we are safe and at peace in His arms . . . Kids know, man. They call you out on your prevarications and half-truths; they know when you are joking and bitterly resent being deceived about important things. So, there is nothing like seeing the faith not just of a child, but of *your very own child* to drive it home: We are safe with Him. Just curl right up on His lap, in His arms, and rest.