Bits for Sunday, August 16, 2009

Today was baby James’ dedication. I sat in the front row of the sanctuary (just for that…don’t worry…I’m still partial to the back of the church!) two cameras in hand, snapping pictures of a snoozing sweetie who was oblivious to the significance of the moment.

Chris and Trudy promised to teach little James the ways of the Lord, while big sister Savannah flashed a gigantic smile to show me her very first gap created by a lost tooth. Big brother Liam squirmed ferociously to get down and move on to the next activity while the church family behind me stood to their feet and vowed to support this family in raising a new little life to know about God’s love. Even when he’s five and running in the halls. (See, Brian? I was listening!) Perhaps especially when he’s five and running in the halls.

Though my time in the moment was consumed with photography, listening, rescuing the bottle when it got in the way, and making goofy faces at the kids, I later had time to think about that little ceremony and what it means.

I was just two days younger than James when my parents stood at the front of another church and promised to do their best to raise me to know the Lord. And that wasn’t a task they took lightly. Dad told me bedtime stories every night – straight out of the Bible. Mom taught me memory verses and how to tithe. They rehearsed lines with me when I had a part in the Christmas program. They taught me to sit still in church, listen to the sermon even when I didn’t understand all of it, and learn the words to the hymns. When I got older, they carted me back and forth to bell choir practice and youth group. And they always made sure we had daily devotions as a family – even when I rolled my eyes.

A baby dedication is a nice service. It’s a chance to invite the grandparents, aunts and uncles, dress up in fancier-than-normal clothes, take some pictures, and have a special announcement in the bulletin. It does make a fabulous scrapbook page and a pleasant memory.

But it is so much more.

It’s a declaration of a permanent commitment to work incredibly hard. To pack a lifetime (it seems) of spiritual truths into just a few short years. To be on a vigilant watch for teachable moments. To remember that sometimes the greatest lessons are not purposefully taught but simply lived.

Baby James missed his entire dedication and the after-church photo shoot where he was passed from one set of loving and eager arms to another. When I had the chance to hold him for just a few minutes, he snuggled up close and continued his nap. And even though I’m not his mom, and my moments with him will be sporadic, I know I want to make those moments count.

I’m thankful to have the opportunity to have these adopted nieces and nephews to love and invest in. I am so glad to have been in that church service today, snapping pictures, but I also recognize the responsibility that goes beyond those ten minutes. Even for an aunt.