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Googling The Sermon

I have always been a staunch believer that forthright honesty is always the best policy.  Especially when it comes to church sermons.  More than once, I have outright vocally stated that I like for a preacher to "just say it like it is."  Keep it straightforward and simple.  No gussying it up or watering it down.  The truth is the truth, if we aren't uncomfortable sometimes, then we probably are not hearing what we need to hear.

I have been fortunate enough in my lifetime to have listened to many a sermon that met my preferential delivery style.  I appreciate the difficulty of the task laid before a preacher - studying and delivering a message from the Bible is a weighty responsibility.

An excellent example of such a sermon was recently delivered from the pulpit.  I sat there ready to soak it all up.  A few minutes in, the preacher mentions "sexual immorality".  I didn't even flinch, then my son in something akin to a stage whisper that could certainly be heard by everyone within the immediate four to five rows back and forward asks, "Mom, what's sexual immorality"?

I probably paled slightly.  I know I felt a little light-headed as snapped my head around to look at him and say, "SSSSHHHHHHH!!!"

I realize this didn't exactly answer his question.  So did he.  So he asked again.  Louder.

I looked at his father for backup, support, help of any kind, but he was too busy doing a horrible job of faking being asleep.  The smirk gave him away.

"SSSSHHHHHHHHHHH!"

"But MOM, "

"SSSSHHHHHHHHHH!  We'll talk about it later!'

I'm pretty sure everyone around us was enjoying my discomfort at this point.  I turned in the direction of the pulpit, but all hope of my being able to focus had been lost.  My mind was spinning on just how I was going to get out of having to explain this concept to my nine year old.  I bowed my head to pray as this was a situation that called for prayer and guidance of the Lord if ever I saw one.  As I did so, I saw my child was trying to look up sexual immorality on the concordance of the Bible app on my phone.

I almost passed out.  Fortunately, he couldn't figure out how to spell "immorality".  I told him to stop - pay attention - or no, here, read the parable of the fishes.......ANY DISTRACTION would do.

Hoping my excellent parenting skills would not be called into question, I tried to return my attention to the sermon.  But then I began to lament the fact that my baby boy was growing up.  Someone was going to explain in probably much more graphic detail than I approved of, what all things related to sexual immorality was.  As I was working my way toward acceptance of the fact that a discussion would have to happen, I looked back at my son, wanting to see the two year old boy I adored, and instead saw my too-smart-for-his-own-good-self attempting to Google the words "sexual immorality".

I almost passed out in the pew.

I grabbed the phone, and told him DO NOT Google those words!  I can't begin, and have no desire, to imagine what might come up with such a search.

The sermon drew to a close.  And, as usual, it was good, old-fashioned, straight-forward truth from the Bible, but I found myself reconsidering my preferences.  I temporarily decided I preferred straight-forward truth when it doesn't make me have to have a talk with my baby, even if I need to.   One final prayer was said in which I know I expressed an earnest desire to have this situation pass from me.

We had barely gotten our seat-belts on in the car, when the question was asked again.  (Yes, I was hoping it would have been forgotten by then.)  El Hubbo was of no help, and I struggled with determining exactly how to say what I needed to say......but following a socratic questioning method I was able to ascertain that my son had no clue, and I was able to keep the explanation on a very, very, very surface level, much to my relief.  His innocence is in some ways still preserved.

 It was one of the most stressful Sunday mornings I have experienced in awhile, but now I realize that the eve of my child's innocence is coming.  El Hubbo and I must prep ourselves for the conversations to come that will be less surface-y in nature.

So, thanks for that, Preacher-man.

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