Our worship team often cannot hear themselves on stage. One instrument drowns out the others. The melody gets buried beneath monitor mixes and hot guitars. I don't notice from the auditorium. I'm too distracted by the children in our worship service, who provide their own surround sound.
Josh taps marker caps on the table; Tina asks him to be quiet. Ellie punctures a Styrofoam plate with a ballpoint pen; I redirect her. Annie dances in the aisle; her father helps her twirl.
This is a typical Sunday morning: lots of noise. Some static. Some symphonic. Mostly joyful.
Then Margot tugs on her mother's sleeve to present a drawing; Liz is proud.
The same Jesus who commands storms in Margot's art is the one who invited children into his company. Children: Noisy, messy, and prone to run with scissors. Jesus loves them. Let them come.