Child Greatness, Part One. And some follow-up.

(Follow-up):  Everyone's a Critic (other blog), in which I discussed the funeral of a teenaged boy Matt and I both knew, and various aspects of the service with which I was satisfied, dissatisfied, or had no opinion about. Following the service Matt and I discussed a number of, ah, funerary preferences, from his perspective as a minister and mine as a daughter whose mother died suddenly when she was in college. One topic was the music, and last week we Matt and I were listening to this song, and he said this version would've been "perfect" for this kid's funeral, that it instills hope and faith in God: I Know My Redeemer Lives.

On a related note (music, note, gosh I'm hilarious) one of the other songs they played at the service was "O Glorious Day," which I really like (I am not generally a fan of contemporary Christian music, though I like it more than I did 5 years ago) - we also heard this at our Wednesday night contemporary service, when we were visited by a group of residents from this program in South Carolina. It's not a substance abuse treatment facility per se, it is not licensed or advertised as such, but all the men there are in recovery from substance abuse issues. It is a faith-based (Christian but non-denominational) program where the average length of stay is 2 years; there is daily chapel attendance and Bible study, in addition to AA/NA, vocational training and life skills, etc. It's a great place, our church designates some funding for them every year, and various groups have been down to visit the facility. I was really hoping my older brother (he's the Loved One I talked about earlier, in case you thought it might be my dad) would go there after he completed detox, but that hasn't come to pass. Anyway, they have a choir of about 20 - 25 men who came to perform for us, mixing hymns, contemporary music, and testimony/witness (I am really uncomfortable with both those terms; I'd rather use, "story"). "O Glorious Day" was the first song they sang.

Simon was kind of funny; we'd explained to him there would be a lot of Strangers at church that night and that he needed to be sure he always stayed close to Daddy and me. Matt took David to the nursery and Simon and I walked into the sanctuary; we were about 15 minutes early and there were all the Strangers, who immediately greeted Simon with high 5s and "hey, little brother"s. There were no familiar faces in the room, and while I was delighted the guys were there, I didn't really feel like sitting there with them by myself for 15 minutes, so I said something to Simon about catching up with Daddy and we left, promising to return shortly. As we left the sanctuary (we were about 3 feet outside the double doors, which were open) Simon said, not in his indoor voice, "Were they in jail?" I delayed my response a bit until we were in the fellowship hall, when I explained briefly what the facility was, that it wasn't jail, and although the men were here to talk to us, that we shouldn't really talk about it because it's "kind of private." I checked with Matt later; he said he hadn't said anything to Simon about the group other than the few sentences about Strangers; I tried to get Simon to tell me what made him think they had been in jail but it was clear he wasn't going to be able to answer it. As I mental health/substance abuse professional I made an educated guess that most of the men had been in jail at some point; this was borne out in their testimonies. And, I seem to have the most perceptive kid on the planet. 

The sharing of stories was great, Simon did seem to be paying attention and when I asked him later if he had any questions he said no, but I might follow up with him again in a day or so. One man discussed his "misguided quest" for three things; I don't remember the first 2 exactly but they were something like love and acceptance, and the third one was definitely "significance." That really struck me - a "misguided quest for significance."Another man said that through his recovery work, prayer, and Bible study, "Now I am able to see myself the way God sees me," which was also helpful. … I was pleased at the reaction by our congregation, that everyone seemed to be enjoying the music, and afterward at our fellowship supper, everyone asked some of the men to join them at their table. We didn't have anyone, as our table was already full when Simon asked, "Why aren't any of the guys from the place in South Carolina sitting with us?" God this kid is wonderful. 

Re: Simon's ability to process and handle grown-up-type information: I've posted several times on Facebook about Simon and me recently undertaking our "Harry Potter Project." The initial plan was that beginning on his 6th birthday, each year on his birthday we would read a Harry Potter book, then watch the movie. We have both really enjoyed it, and we finished The Sorcerer's Stone much faster than I'd imagined. For awhile I was worried it was moving a little fast for him, but then he really seemed to be paying attention, so I would still check periodically for comprehension but mostly stopped worrying about it. 

We did talk about some death-related stuff when the Mirror of Erised came up, and near the end when Dumbledore says the thing about, To the organized mind, death is but the next great adventure (I told him to pay attention when this was coming up since we'd see it again). We did talk about that a little, about the people who had wasted away in front of the mirror, so caught up in looking at what they desired that life passed them by until they died having gained nothing and lost everything. I talked about my mom, and how it's good for me to think about her, good to remember all the good times we had and what a great Mom she was, but that I can't sit around doing that all the time because I'd miss out on life - on them growing up, on writing my book, on moving. I think he got it, more or less, and Matt said a few days later Simon told him he wished we had a Mirror of Erised so he could see "Pop," Matt's grandfather Jack who died a couple of years ago. 

We'd raced through the book so quickly, we determined there is no way we'll be able to wait until next May to begin the second book, and I was prepared to take a break for a couple of months and then start The Chamber of Secrets. Matt expressed some concern about this - he watched the movie with Simon, and said he frequently got scared even of the pretty benign parts, like the Sorting Hat (Simon may prove to have about as much tolerance for scary movies as his Mama), and we talked a lot about the abundant death themes throughout the whole series. My ultimate thought (!) was, I think Simon is as capable as any other 6 y.o., and likely more capable, of understanding stuff. I'll go slowly, and check with him often to make sure he's okay and understanding. And, we'll wait until Christmas to start Book 2, so that'll be about a six-month rest. Well, it was going to be Christmas, then Simon bargained his way back to November 27th, then November 26th. So stay tuned … 

And randomly: this is a song we've sung at our Wednesday service, "How Great is our God," that I also really liked. When Matt and I visited our New Church a few weeks ago, this was the first song for the congregation during that Sunday service, and it sounded so much better being sung by about 300 people, rather than the highly variable but usually fewer than 50 attendance at our Wednesday service.