That basically meant we lifted him up like Simba at Pride Rock and packs of gazelles and bobcats circled around and sang MNANGAHALAWASSOMANGOHALO which means "Behold! Another manchild handed over to organized religion!"
The same pastor who baptized me, and who dedicated Baby Girl, also dedicated Little Man. It was lovely to have Pastor Park do the honors, as it was his last sabbath at our church before he moved to his new position as a conference administrator (where I imagine he will probably make millions marketing veggie meat).
I know many people have many thoughts about raising a child in a religious community, particularly a Sabbath-keepin', fundamentalist-believin' one, and these same people probably are the same ones that pick lint off the shoulder of your sweater while you are talking to them. But no matter. I'm okay with conservative religions, and I really enjoy the ones that teeter dangerously on Are They a Cult or Aren't They? Those are fun.
In all seriousness, I am just deeply grateful for our church, it's made of wonderful people who are dedicated to advancing a genuine love for God and His word. That's it. I want my kids to know this. If they choose otherwise when they are older ALL THOSE SABBATH SCHOOL LESSONS FOR WHAT?! then I will have to accept that. Just like my own parents did when I made my own church choice. You know, after we screamed at each other for a little while. Long while.
We still love each other. And God. The same one. I think. I believe... Um? Jesus loves you.
And He loves my son.
- photo credits to the talented Dr. Paul Yoo