Leapers!

Joy and I have been trying to get more involved at our church this year. We want to meet some people, hopefully make some friends, and do some serving. Sounds good, right? So last week was our first Sunday of helping out in the children's ministry. We are helping out with the 1 1/2 to 2 year olds, called the Leapers. (Yes, all the age-groups are named on some type of bodily movement: Leapers, Climbers, Jumpers. Thank goodness we didn't sign up for the Poopers!) Anyway, we went through the process of filling out the application and on our first Sunday, we went and had our pictures taken for our IDs and found our way to our room. The lights were off and the door closed. Hmm, we thought, perhaps we're just really early. We did a lap around the church, and came back. Still no lights, still no open door. After two more laps, we decided we probably looked silly walking around the church like we were some of those way-too-early-in-the-morning mall walkers, and ventured into the room on our own.

A few minutes later, one of the children's ministry team leaders came in to introduce herself to us. We thought surely another adult would be coming in the room with us, so Joy tentatively asked if any other adults would be in the room. The lady, bless her heart for handling all of these dear children, simply said, "No" as if she wasn't the least concerned that Joy and I had no idea what we were doing. I should rephrase that: Joy clearly knows what she's doing. I'm a naive disaster when it comes to those leaping crazy beings that are called toddlers.

The church is apparently high-tech and high-security, and parents swipe cards in the entrace area of the children's ministry, and then a little sheet prints in our room to let us know the child's on its way. Well, we started off fine, just one slip, sign the kid in, and then a second slip, sign the girl in. Then madness began. I swear, the next ten minutes were pure bedlam. Slips were flying out of the machine. Babies were bawling and parents weren't doing much better. Diaper bags were everywhere. I was probably crying too. When it all settled down and I realized what had happened, Joy and I looked around and realized we were alone with 17 children. That's right...17. I think it was actually 19, but 2 must have escaped. Oh well.

I've sat through some long sermons in my day. I've slept in church, doodled, read Bible passages that weren't relevant to the message, looked at the harmonies in the hymnbook. No service seemed as long as this one where I was with these children. Now, there were moments of pure pleasure and glee, frolic and fun, but there were also moments of tears (both me and the children), grabbing kids from climbing over the door holding them in, checking to see if kids were peeing (thankfully, Joy did the diaper changing), and trying to get the kids to stop using the black crayons directly on the nice wooden table. Of course, it was a communion Sunday, so the service went long. I think "Communion To Go" should be an option for parents. Okay, maybe not, but if the pastor doesn't end on time, they risk having a whole lot of parents upset because the workers simply gave up and took the children into the bapistry for some added fun.