Posted tagged ‘table grace’

“Two Year Old Praying”

June 10, 2013

WORDS FROM W.W.                                                                          June 10, 2013


Two Year Old Praying”


My two year old granddaughter, Reagan, decided she would pray for our shared meal the other day. She started: “T’ank you, God, fo’ this food! And make Granddad stop eating food. Amen!”

My wife started laughing, and I immediately got a perplexed, shocked look on my face.

Why did you pray that Granddad would stop eating food, Reagan?”

Cause he was eating and we hadn’t prayed yet!”

Saying grace before dinner tends to be a bit legalistic for a two year old. Reagan would do well with the Old Testament sacrificial system of procedures and instructions.

You can’t eat food if you haven’t prayed!”

I was sufficiently reprimanded.

A a few minutes later her brother, Jesse, bonked his head on the back of his chair and started whimpering. His sister reached over and laid her hand on his head like she was praying for healing.

Were you praying for your brother?”

Yes! I was praying fo’ him!”

We have a praying granddaughter! She prays for judgment on her grandfather and healing on her brother. I think when I was a kid I reversed those.

And where does her tendency to pray come from? It comes from being a part of a family that prays- prays at mealtime, prays at bedtime, prays in church, prays whenever the situation warrants it, prays just because.

Prayer gets rooted into a kid’s life early on. Yes, prayer for a child becomes an action that reflects what is being practiced in the faith walks of the parents…and even grandparents and teachers…and aunts and uncles.

Just as Reagan caught me sneaking a bite of pizza she already catches on to what is being practiced in the lives of those around her.

Now…I have to be sure she doesn’t catch me sneaking ice cream before dinner! Surely it would bring down the wrath of God!

Pastor For Dinner

November 1, 2012

WORDS FROM W.W.                                                                         November 1, 2012


“The mashed potatoes are ready”, came the voice from the kitchen.

“Is the table set?”

“I think we still need steak knives.”

“Dinner rolls are hot out of the oven.”

“Pitchers of iced tea and water are on the table.”

“Okay! Let’s gather everyone at the table and say grace.”

The six people of various ages converged on the dining room and took their assigned seats. It was their Sunday afternoon custom- dinner after church. It wasn’t called lunch because it took the place of two meals for the day and was served promptly at two o’clock…if church didn’t run long! “Long” was defined as anything exceeding one hour and ten minutes. The pastor was expected to do on-the-spot sermon revisions if the singing, announcements about everything that was happening that week, prayer requests and actual praying time, story time for the children, scripture reading, mission moment, and offering ran long. If Aunt Bessie needed to share about her sister Mildred’s gall bladder untrasound, and Deacon Herman was led by the Spirit to present the prayer request of people using excessive speed driving into the church parking lot, then sometimes the pastor’s message became more of a summary meditation thought.

Pot roasts were in the crock pots, and the Methodists needed to be beaten to the restaurants. Three points and a poem were often “Cliffs Noted” into one point and a quote. When it came down to expository preaching and pot roasts the perceptive pastor knew when to yield.

Dear Lord! We thank you for your many blessings, and this meal that we are about to partake of. May it be used to give us strength! Amen!”

Five other amens echoed through the room, and then the food started it’s rotation around the table.

“Beautiful solo this morning by Margaret!”

“Yes, it was! She has such an incredible voice.”

“I didn’t realize that Henry Smith was having prostate problems.”

“Nor I! And how about Lorraine having to put her dog down. So sad!”

“Did you see little Angela during the story time? She kept making faces at the pastor. I couldn’t help but laugh.”

“So precious!”

“My insides were making faces at the pastor during the message. What was his point anyway?”

“Don’t ask me! He lost me even before he finished reading the scripture.”

“I timed him today. Twenty-six minutes and thirty-four seconds.”

“He needs to cut it down to twenty.”

“Fifteen, if he would just speak faster!”

“I hate it when he brings in world hunger and poverty during his sermon. It makes me feel guilty having dinner.”

“And, Lord knows, we deserve a nice dinner after having to endure another Sunday lecture.”

“And when he uses one of those more contemporary versions of the Bible it just turns me off.”

“The King James is such beautiful language. It’s almost like listening to a Shakespeare play.”

“I don’t like bringing current events into the pulpit. Stick with what Jesus said and we’ll be fine, but you start talking about what’s going on in the world and you just lose people.”

“Would anyone care for another roll?”


“I tell you…Sunday dinner is the most peaceful time of the week for me.”

“Me too!”