So last night we were at this concert at our church and there are bazillions of kids running around, playing on the playground, and etc. After a half hour, Garrett got a little tired of throwing bark into his red wagon so I take him over to the climbing wall. Not the big kid one, the little kid one that's designed at an angle. I held him by the overalls and let him climb to his little heart's content. A few big kids climbed up beside him. One almost kicked him in the head. I didn't mind. I figured it was a "play at your own risk" kind of situation. After several minutes a very big kid came parading up the wall. And I heard a mother shout, "Get down from there. Come away from that baby. THAT BABY IS WAAAYYYY TOO SMALL TO BE ANYWHERE NEAR HERE ANYWAY!"
It was one of the those situations where I wanted to be quicker on my feet and make some snide remark. Where I SHOULD have asked, "What would Jesus do?" But where, all I did was stand, holding my son and feeling the red creep into my cheeks.
What I really wish I said was, "Oh, it's ok, I don't mind if they climb by him. He's a tough little guy. I don't think we've met. I'm Pastor Troy's wife, Lori. I hope your kids are enjoying this playground. My husband designed it." Nevermind that I never refer to my husband as Pastor Troy.
What I should have done was picked up my child and said, "Oh, I hadn't thought of it that way, he's just such a tough little guy it never crossed my mind. Here kids, play away." Because in the scheme of things that might have been closer to what Jesus would have done.
What I did was saunter over to Troy, who had been up on stage moments earlier introducing the band, and laid a big kiss on his lips and thrust the baby into his arms. I don't think she saw me. It's probably for the best since I don't think the Lord rewards my passive-aggressive behavior.