When Ray and I first got married many years ago, we were very faithful at attending church twice every Sunday. And we were committed to raising our “someday family” in the same way. If there was church on Sunday, the Wade’s were going to be there.
And then the kids came along, and we did well at our committment. We were there. It wasn’t always easy to fit a baby’s schedule into going to church and when that baby became a rowdy toddler, it only got harder. But we knew where we were supposed to be. And we were there. Along came #2. And it got harder. Especially when that little one had asthma, and we tried to avoid colds, as this seemed to set off his asthma symptoms the most. And somewhere along the way, we got out of the practice of attending both services on Sundays. Faithful in the mornings, not at all in the evenings.
Then, when we would try, our rowdy little boys were not used to sitting in church and I would leave so frustrated and overwhelmed at how difficult it was, that it would be ages before we would try again. If only we had stayed where we should have been all along. Then those little boys would know how to behave.
And staying home on Sunday nights? It was awful. I was so conviceted, and knew where I was supposed to be, and was miserable on Sunday nights. Living where we do, and seeing quite a few cars on their way to the evening service didn’t help either. Except that really, it did. It all helped to convict me, and remind me of where I was supposed to be.
Well, it’s been a number of years of miserable Sunday evenings, and attending evening service sporadicaly (I know–that’s spelled wrong–it’s driving me crazy and I can’t figure it out!) Very seldom would be the proper term, I think. We’re trying again, and this time, making it work. One of my favorite excuses (and believe me, I had a lot) was that it would take me too long to get the kids stuff together and then we would be late. Solved that problem. I went to Dollarama and picked up drawing pads and coloring books for all three kids, along with pencils, crayons, erasers, and colored pencils. And a tote bag. Everything stays in the bag, the things only get used at church and there is no longer a scurry of activity of everyone trying to find what they need. One problem solved. But my main tool in making sure that we actually get there on Sunday nights? Prayer. Lots of it.
And I can’t even begin to say how much smoother Sunday evenings go now. My kids aren’t perfect and if you happen to be sitting behind us, or in front of us, you’ll defintely hear a fair bit of rustling and disturbance in our row. We’re working on that. And they’re getting better. The important thing is that we’re where we’re supposed to be on Sunday evenings, and my prayer is that we stay faithful this time.