We sat on the very back row. Kim on one side and me on the other. Like bookends. No, more like prison guards.
Between us squirmed four children. Luca was begging for my iPhone. Lincoln was coloring. Anna was scattering flannel board pieces around the floor while Kai tossed Cheerios into the hair of a woman sitting a row in front of us.
And when Kim grabbed Kai to hold him, he threw up down her cleavage.
This is how our family sits reverently through church each week.
By sitting on the back row nobody can sneak in behind us and second guess our decision to have four children. Or see when Lincoln gives me a wet willy.
I’m told that children need to get in the habit of attending church. It teaches character. It teaches reverence and respect. It also teaches parents that the patience of Job won’t be enough to last through the speaker from the high council.
I’d have better luck getting live NFL updates piped through the church’s intercom system than I would asking my four children to sit tight during the sacrament service without one of them ripping off a loud belch or worse.
I wondered if attending church was benefiting the kids when I asked Lincoln what his primary class talked about and he replied, “All we do is talk about Jesus. Every week, that’s all we talk about”.
Yet part of me can relate. I remember sitting through long prayers and thinking, “I can’t believe I’m missing the Steelers game for this”.
But we keep going each week hoping the kids will make friends which they have. We aren’t the first family to take young children to church, and people tend to be very tolerant.
And just maybe the kids are learning something based on the last time I asked Lincoln what he learned in primary.
“We talked about Jason the Baptist”, he replied with a smile.