We were nervous about Jack's baby dedication this past Sunday. My husband and I are not the type of people who relish standing on stage in front of the entire church, for one thing. And 3-1/2-month-olds don't exactly have predictable behavior.
My plan was to feed Jack right before church so he would be as happy as possible. This, however, also means he was as full as possible.
Unfortunately, he emptied himself a little right before we sauntered on stage—from both ends.
The dedication was to be after a set of worship songs. I purposely put a blanket between the baby and me so that my clothes would not be soaked if Jack had a bit of a blowout.
During one of the worship songs, I looked down and saw a large, brownish wet spot on one of Jack's legs. Oh, dear. I looked at my husband in a total panic. I could envision the pastor announcing the baby dedication and baby and mommy being nowhere to be found. I told him I had a spare pair of pants in the car, so I ran out of the church to get them. Fortunately, I ran into the pastor at that point and explained the emergency. He said I had time to change the diaper, so I went back into the church, got the baby, and headed for the bathroom. I nervously changed the diaper as fast as I could and put the clean jeans on him. Then I rushed back out into the sanctuary, relieved that the pastor was still in the middle of pre-dedication announcements.
My husband looked at me. "He threw up all over your shoulder and hair." Oh, dear, part two.
Frantically, we grabbed wipes and he mopped me up as best and as quickly as he could. I was wearing a black shirt so at least the wet spot didn't show too much.
Then we got on stage. The beautiful dedication message seemed far longer than it was as I glanced nervously about 101 times at the baby in the pastor's arms. He squirmed a couple times but never cried.
After church, it hit me. I should be thankful for the little pre-dedication disaster. After all, if Jack had waited just a few minutes longer for his performance, it would have been a public fiasco—on stage, in front of the entire congregation, in the pastor's arms.
Good thing God has a plan, even for the little things!