Sunday Mornings and Church

Early on in our marriage, my husband and I started going to church every Sunday. It was a tradition that we continued once our children were born. Recently as I was preparing a column about rules and raising children, I asked my son if there were particular rules that he remembered growing up. “Church on Sunday mornings,” he said almost immediately.

Now early on in their lives, church on Sunday mornings was not a difficult thing for my children. In fact, I think they even looked forward to it. Sunday School was obviously the best part of going to church. They were able to play and color and spend time with friends. The church service, on the other hand, was a bit tough.

I remember packing cookies and crayons with paper and even small toys into my purse each Sunday morning. Anything to keep them occupied, especially my son, during the sermon. When my husband was away on a trip, and the three of us headed off to church without him, I had a particular concern. I would often sing with the choir, and having the kids sit by themselves until the anthem was over was a continual worry for me. Tiffany would sit and play or color, but Timmy would often take self-guided tours of the sanctuary—and he typically waited to begin his tour until the choir had begun to sing.

One particular Sunday morning, Timmy decided to explore the altar during the anthem. He even ventured behind the curtains just beyond the altar. I could hear the snickers of the members of the congregation above the morning music, and I grew sick. I prayed that the choir director would up the tempo of the music just a bit so that we would finish more quickly. Finally, when the music had ended, I tried to sneak out of the choir loft without being noticed. I hunched over and practically crawled behind the altar to retrieve my child. I was probably at least a dozen different shades of red as I carried him back to the pew where Tiffany was quietly seated.

But we stuck with our rule. Church every Sunday morning. That is until the kids reached high school. Then we sort of lost our stamina. Waking up two teenagers on a Sunday morning (usually the only morning of the week that they could sleep in) became increasingly difficult. We bargained and agreed on an every other week schedule. They loved youth group and activities like that, anything at the church that didn’t involve an early wake-up call was acceptable, but Sunday morning services were another thing!

I remember listening at one point to an expert on child rearing, and he said to be careful in choosing your battles with rules. Sometimes it was acceptable to bend and at other times it wasn’t. As I got older, and my kids did, too, I realized that this was one of the battles on rules that would be flexible. The flexibility made the entire family much happier and Sunday mornings much more peaceful!