Getting through church has been a challenge lately.
With four kids under the age of eight who all have a mind of their own, I'm lucky if I get to hear even five cumulative minutes of the Sacrament Meeting talks.
Each week we bring coloring books and other appropriate distractions to keep the kids occupied, in hopes that we can make it through the first hour without some sort of meltdown that causes everyone to question our parenting skills. This is not always successful.
In addition, when one kid "has" to go potty, suddenly all the kids "have" to go potty. Getting them to come back in is tough; trying to get them all to remain quietly seated for an hour is an exercise in futility. Living in a ward with your boss' boss and his boss really makes you wish for their best behavior.
Even though neither we nor they seem to get much out of Sacrament Meeting, I know that we need to be consistent and set a good example. My mom never faltered in taking us to church, even though all five of us caused plenty of ruckus on our own. Her example was critical when I encountered a crisis of faith as a young man. Our kids need to be at church and need to see us at church.
Still, it's nice when we're actually able to pay attention.
Recently, as a stroke of genius, Stef had the idea to give Kelsey some responsibility and have her take Kaya on walks through the halls during Sacrament Meeting. Though we still have to deal with two kids who might try to get up and bolt at any given moment, it's easier than getting pulled in four different directions.
Today, thanks to Kelsey, we actually got to half-listen to one of the talks, as well as a surprisingly-not-horrible rendition of O Holy Night. It was great; with O Holy Night, if it's not just about perfect, it's usually terrible.
At the conclusion of the meeting, the woman offering the benediction thanked her Heavenly Father for the gift of His Son. Upon hearing her plead that we would all remember the true spirit of Christmas, I could swear that Christmas bells were ringing faintly in the distance. As the prayer grew longer, the ringing grew stronger. Soon, the ringing was so loud that nobody in the congregation could ignore it.
At the very moment that the prayer ended, the Christmas bells arrived at the open door to the chapel. "Amen," we all repeated, whipping our heads around to see what was causing all the commotion.
In came Kaya with a huge smile on her face and a bell in her hand. I shook my head and chuckled, burying my head in my hands. Seeing the others' laughs and understanding smiles through my fingers dissolved all worry.
I sure love these kids.
