This past weekend, our daughter was Confirmed. In the Catholic Christian faith, Confirmation is the rite in which a baptized child affirms Christian belief and becomes a full member of the church.
We welcomed some two-hundred new members! WOW!
The bad news?
We welcomed some TWO-HUNDRED new members...
This Confirmation would be the last one I would attend, as our baby was the celebrant. I imagined the ceremony to be a beautiful one where my daughter and I would embrace; tears would flow, all while being cradled in the overwhelming joy of the Lord.
Yes, that is what I imagined! Then, God laughs:
1. Packed into pews like sardines to a can, we stood sideways.
2. The number of celebrants (a record breaker) was immense. The candidates and their sponsors lined the middle pews, and we were
placed on the outside pews (if you were lucky enough to have a seat).
3. I could not hear the bishop speaking, and no one thought to adjust the volume.
4. Everyone stood for a good piece of the celebration, and I'm 5'2" - need I say more?
5. Oh, and did I mention I could not see my daughter because she tops out at a whopping 5 foot.
I was fuming, tucked in my little plot, and not only from incessant body heat. I stood and pouted proudly! Then, God smiles:
While waiting for Communion, I prayed, "Lord, please allow me to see this moment differently than I do now. Help me to see like You."
I wish I could say it hit me like a lightning bolt, and I am unsure as to why. The words were subtle. They like the painful, reprimanding words of a loving parent, brushed against my consciousness - a whisper -
My dear child, this is not about you! I smiled.
After the ceremony, my daughter spoke of her celebration beaming. She was able to see.