The other night we were at our friends’ house for our home group time. That’s basically our church time each week where we pray, worship, and study together. However, I have a feeling it looks very different from most churches you’re used to. For one thing, we first eat, then we sit around the living room, and the entire time we have a 2 year old running around and playing with us. (Yes, that would be my buddy Nate. He’s the one with the brand new baby sister.) Nate loves to read books, play with his toys, and play catch (or “throw”) with all of us. He especially loves cars and balls.
There we were the other night, all being serious, and I had to get up and get some water. I’m standing, stretching out my back and trying to be quiet because everyone was talking about important stuff, when Nate walks up to me and points at my belly.
mab: No, Nate, that’s not a ball.
(everyone is laughing hysterically)
Nate (more adamantly): Ball!
mab: Nope, that’s a baby.
Nate (looks over at his baby sister, then back at my stomach, then gives me a look as if to say “No, I’ve seen a baby and that doesn’t look like a baby. Now give me the ball!”): BALL! BALL! BALL!
At this point Nate tried to pick up my shirt and get the ball. He never did believe me that I hadn’t just shoved a soccer ball up my shirt.