We are not an overly religious family in that we don’t typically stand on street corners handing out Bibles, nor do we have the habit of beating people over the head with aforementioned Bibles. But we DO know where our bread is buttered, so to speak. We know Who is in charge, and we try to respect that, even though we may not be as vocal as some in following that path.
So with that brief history, I will give you a run-down of the prayer that was said on Christmas day at my grandmother’s house. (By the way, out of all of us, I have to say that Grandma takes the religious lead in the family, so we know that when it’s time to sit in church or pray or read from the Bible and such, we WILL all stand straight and be respectful and focus on the task at hand. No monkey business!)
Now that the picture is painted, envision if you will, the entire family—cousins, aunts, uncles, grandparents, etc…—gathered around the bountiful meal we were about to consume. My elderly grandmother motioned for Jadon to stand beside her and hold her hand, and he obediently went to her side.
And there we were, gathered in the warmth of “kith and kin” as Clark Griswold would say, when my grandmother asked my brother to say the blessing. All heads were bowed, and in a loud, clear voice, my brother began, “Dear Lord…”
And at that precise moment, Jadon squirmed from my grandmother’s grip, looked up, assessed that this little speech might take longer than he’d originally expected, and he announced in an equally loud voice, “I have to go to the bathroom!”
So the entire prayer went a little something like this, “Dear Lord, I have to go to the bathroom!”
It took a moment for my brother to look skyward and announce that there would be a brief intermission and that we would continue with our prayer momentarily. And that’s when everyone erupted in laughter.