Though my oldest daughter enjoys attending Sunday School, my younger children are still a bit shy, so when we all attend church together, they’re never far from my side. Those who have seen me chasing my children through the church’s halls know, quiet meditation is not something that comes naturally to our family. Our children are full of energy and joyful noises—lots of joyful noises, in fact, most of which they choose to share at inappropriate times.
And of course, the weekly burst of energy and activity they bring to church is only half of the Sunday morning battle; there’s the act of getting them all into clothes that are somewhat presentable, convincing them to brush their teeth, holding them down long enough to wash their faces and comb their hair, and negotiating with them over appropriate breakfast choices (why is there always leftover pizza in my fridge on Sunday mornings?) It is a routine that is reminiscent of a scene from The Little Rascals.