Friday, 21 October 2011

Sunday Evening Prayers

Recently Jack decided that we should have a family time of Bible stories and Prayers on a Sunday evening. He felt it would be a nice way round off the weekend, settle down and get focused for the week ahead.  Anna and I readily agreed.  Anna loves stories and interaction of any kind, and I miss going to church. I don't wish to criticise the Dutch Reform Church, it's quite simply that I don't understand most of the Afrikaans service.
It has developed into a lovely routine, and one that we all enjoy. Anna always dims the lights and insists we light candles, to make us feel  "holy and churchy."We begin with Papa reading a story from the children's bible, which we then discuss. Papa  chooses a topic he feels is important to us as a family, (such as forgiveness) and Mama reads some relevant verses out of the Bible. We all participate in how we can learn from God's word.  Anna tells me she forgives me for shouting at her yesterday, and promises that she is going to share her toys with the poor children. She then prays, "God please bless the poor people, and bless us too because we are rich". It is such an earnest  little prayer. Jack and I open one eye, peak at each other and smile. Indeed we are rich.
We end the "service" with breaking bread, and drinking from the cup. I usually use Cream Crackers in the place of bread, and Grapetiser in the place of wine. We all partake. We explain to Anna how the bread represents the body of Christ that was broken for us, and the wine represents the blood of Christ that was shed for us. Finally we have a family hug.
One Sunday afternoon Anna comes bouncing into our bedroom, with an expression of excited expectation on her face.  She asks, "Papa, are we going to do that bloody, biscuity thing tonight?" We both burst out laughing. She can't understand what we find so funny about her question. I'm certain The Lord has a sense of humour, but for the first time I realise why the  traditional churches decided Confirmation Classes were necessary.
By Madam Brattex

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