I was trying something new, going to church with my aunts, uncles and cousins… mostly because I couldn’t do another Sunday of church with both kids by myself.
I whimpered inwardly when I learned that children’s church was closed for the summer my task for the next hour would be managing my four year old daughter throughout the service.
We’d never made it through a service without bailing before. The odds were never in our favor.
We shimmied our way into pew and I was instantly thankful for the engineering behind this old school church seating. There were people on every side of us, at least she wasn’t going anywhere.
The service started with a slideshow from a recent mission trip, which managed to hold her attention for a while.
Then the music started and she fidgeted from person to person, crawling down the pew behind me. Each rotation struck me with grace and guilt.
I always worrying that I’m robbing someone else of a meaningful God encounter when they take time to help with my children.
Then the sermon started and I sucked in one big, deep breath and broke out the big guns, the iPhone.
There, I thought, that oughta keep her entertained for a while. And it did, I was even able to take in scraps of the message in-between answering questions about bejeweled.
Later, I noticed her flipping through my photo albums and smiled at the thought of her reminiscing about family memories while we enjoyed church together… well sort of together.
Then it happened. Before I knew it I heard my own voice yelling loudly, interrupting the sermon. “I’m gonna powerwash you!” I yelled. Continue reading