When I began volunteering in children's church many years ago, I did it out of a sense of duty. I figured by giving up one Sunday a month to tend to everyone else's kids, I would gain three Sundays in church without my own. I envisioned myself soaking up biblical knowledge on those Sundays, unhampered by continuous whining and numerous trips to the bathroom. Not a bad deal.

Over the years I've come to realize, however, that for all I planned to learn in "adult" church, every important lesson I've gleaned has come as I sat on the tiny plastic chairs among a throng of sometimes jittery but always enlightening children. Jesus said the kingdom of heaven belongs to those who are like little children, and I can see why. They've got it all figured out. Here are just a few of the universal truths I learned in children's church.

Lesson 1:

Children love show-and-tell. Often on Sunday mornings, a child comes with a new toy or an exciting story that they want to share. But one morning I was greeted with a different type of show-and-tell request.

"I have a dance I want to show everybody," Meredith said confidently.

"Sure," I answered and quieted all the children. "Meredith would like to show us her—" I turned to Meredith. "Is it a tap dance? A ballet dance?" I asked.

She shrugged.

"It's just a dance," she said matter-of-factly.

"Okay. Meredith, take it away." I settled in one of the tiny chairs to await what I assumed would be a number from a recent recital or dance class. Suddenly, in a loud, self-assured voice, she began to sing a popular praise and worship song. As she sang, she spun wildly around the floor, waving her hands in the air and swaying her hips in every direction.

I quickly scanned the audience to make sure none of the kids were laughing; obviously, this was an impromptu number. But the other children were watching with rapt attention. Then, I looked back at Meredith. From the look on her face, she couldn't have cared less what the other kids thought of her dance. Clearly, she was dancing for an audience of One.

When she finished, the room erupted in applause and Meredith took a sweeping bow.

"Meredith," I said, "that was wonderful." She just smiled and sat.

Often when I am praising God, I'm more concerned with my reputation than I should be. What if someone is watching? What if I look foolish?

Then I remember Meredith and her dance of abandon. And I try to emulate her, forgetting my inhibitions and offering up my praise to an audience of One.

Lesson 2:

Each Sunday we have a time of prayer requests when the children share things that are on their minds or near their hearts. We often pray for a sick grandparent, an upcoming T-ball game, or a misunderstanding with a friend. And we pray a lot for pets.

This last concern was on the mind of Alana one morning as I asked the kids to raise their hands if they wanted to share their requests.

"Please pray for my cat, Smokey," Alana said solemnly when it was her turn to share.

"What's wrong with Smokey?" I asked gently.

"He ran away," she replied. When we prayed that morning, we included a plea for God to bring Smokey back home.

The next week when prayer request time rolled around, Alana once again raised her hand.

"Please pray for my cat, Smokey," she said. "He ran away." So once more we prayed for the wayward cat to find his way home.

This continued for weeks, then months, until it occurred to me one day that we had been praying for Smokey the Lost Cat for almost a full year. I realized it was highly unlikely Alana's pet would be returning, but I also recognized that, despite any evidence of an answer to her prayer, she kept on praying. Her faith never wavered.

Many times we expect quick answers to our prayerful requests. Perhaps due to the hurry-up society we live in, patience is scarce and perseverance even scarcer. But watching Alana reminded me that Jesus instructed His disciples through the story of the persistent neighbor to pray faithfully and with determination (Luke 11:8).