My son’s class had studied Dr. King that week, and my son had learned that King had been a pastor. His teachers, knowing that I am a pastor, gave him the opportunity to share with the other students what a pastor is. I think my son was a little shocked to have learned of the great importance of this man, and then to have found out that his mother did the same job. He made sure to let me know that he was probably going to hold me to a higher standard than he had before; he started by asking me what I had done to celebrate Martin Luther King Day. “I went to work at church,” I told him. He was less than satisfied.
Monday, January 21, 2013
About two years ago, when our son was in Kindergarten, I remember lying in bed with him one night talking about celebrating Martin Luther King Day. We talked about who Dr. King was and how he wanted to make sure that all people were treated fairly. It seemed like we were on track for a good, Kindergarten-appropriate conversation.
Friday, January 11, 2013
I was especially good at holding my emotions together over the entire transition, and though I am notorious for “losing it” in worship at the first sign of sentimentality, I held it together through all of my lasts - until it came to the last moment I would be at the church with my now eight year old son.
This was the place where he was born, baptized and raised. While I have always been pretty clear that in my Presbyterian tradition and as a pastor that this was not my church home, it has become more and more clear over the past few weeks that this was HIS church home for sure.