It would be nice if Sunday mornings included hour long meditations, a hearty, homemade breakfast, and time to pray over the hubs and each child for an exceptionally special day. But I don’t particularly care to write “nice,” I prefer more to write “real.” Which is why a good Sunday morning for us means we are all relatively clean and whatever parent is closer to the pantry doles out cereal bars. We grab the travel mugs filled with hot joe and hit the road. I can’t help myself, I do typically serenade the car with a rousing rendition of “GO TEAM!” as we back out. (Getting a family out the door, on a weekend morning, – I don’t care who you are, – its an accomplishment worthy of celebration. )
Some mornings are easier than others, like this morning, not so much. It was quiet. The bed felt so good. We could have very easily stayed snuggled under the covers, in the special quietness that means small children are still sleeping. We battled. As much as we want to love God with every fiber of our being, we love sleep too. And then my very manly, tough husband met his kryptonite. A certain 30 lb, blond cutie would be very upset to miss the meeting of the Body. “When she wakes up, and it is past time for church, I can’t bear to tell her we just didn’t go….” I followed him up and out of the bed. Time to put the coffee on.
In a perfect world, as parents, we would be spiritual leaders for our kids all the time. But perfection is exhausting, unrealistic, and unattainable. So I try (some days better than others) to embrace reality. Reality says sometimes the pre-schooler gets it right, not Mommy and Daddy. Because to her, there’s no question, no battle. Church means friends, fun, and time that is unlike any other where she learns from people who care about and love her. Thankfully, it was her spirituality, her simplistic faith that helped to prod us this morning.
I was moved later in the day when I shared our morning with a girlfriend, and she too had a similar experience. The doldrums of adulthood can so easily kick in, and it was her teenager who affirmed that going to church was the thing to do. (My first thought, I have to admit, was “oh, so I am not the only one?!) Then my second thought: what a cool God thing for us both. I know of at least two households today where the younger generation helped boost the spirituality of the older.
I have a new appreciation for why Jesus calls us to be like children. Its kind of the biblical version of “KEEP IT SIMPLE, STUPID.” And I appreciate, so much, those who work in the children’s/youth/teen ministry. It is hard to know the depth of impact you make, day in, day out, making copies for class, cutting construction paper hearts, learning the songs and singing them with unrestrained joy, but it isn’t only the kids you are impacting.
Your heart to serve the little ones are helping to fill the seats with larger behinds as well 🙂
Tired, Christian Working Mom 