When Patrick lived in Uganda as a little guy, he imitated the very energetic pastors at his home church there, Light the World Church. When I traveled to Uganda to finish his adoption process, I often got to see this in action. He would stomp back and forth across the concrete living room floor of Wilfred and Vena’s apartment (they cared for Patrick during the long year while we worked on the U.S. side of the adoption, and I moved in with them for the five weeks I was in Uganda). His voice went up and down as he ranted, and his arms gestured passionately. I asked Wilfred once, “He’s not really speaking Lugandan, is he?”
He shook his head, smiling. “No, that’s just Patu, his own words.”
I never said this, but it was a pretty good imitation, despite the gibberish.
Patrick’s career interests have changed; he’s more focused on drumming and firefighting now, but Jake surprised us with an announcement the other day.
“Dad, I’m going to be a pastor when I get big.”
“That’s awesome, dude. Why do you want to be a pastor?”
“Well, you know, it says, ‘this is my prayer: that your love may abound more and more in knowledge and depth of insight” (this was the first half of the year verse at Jake’s school). He paused, crinkled his eyes in thought, and then said, “so you can be pure and blameless for the day of Christ.”
It wasn’t the complete verse but pretty close, and I said, “That’s great.”
“Yeah, well, that’s what I have to tell people when I’m a pastor. That’s it. That’s why I want to be a pastor.”
Enough said.
Then yesterday he continued the conversation. “Mom, when I’m a pastor, will you come to my church?”
“If I live in the same town as you, I will definitely go to your church, buddy.”
“Oh, you will, I’ll be here in West Chicago, preaching at our church.”
“That’s an awesome plan, Jake. I’ll have to tell Pastor Craig that you want to take over for him.”
Jake shook his head. His eyes looked worried. “Oh, no, Mom, don’t tell him that.”
“Why not? He’d like to know that.”
But the head shake continued. “No, ’cause I won’t get to be the pastor until he dies. That might make him feel weird.”
That’s awesome! And so very Jake…
He continues to make me crack up at least twice a week! I miss you! Almost called you this morning (because Thursday mornings are a bit slower for me and Wednesday nights are nuts!) but I figured you were either at work already or trying to get a little bit of sleep-in. (at least I hope you were). MISS YOU! Love, Jen