Church Interrupted

“What’s the point?”

This is a predominant thought I struggle with during church services.  Ever since having babies, my life activities are interrupted by their needs.  My meals, my sleep, heck – even taking a pee – it’s all subject to being ambushed by crying, owies, and potty accidents.  So, when I go to church and find myself nursing in the bathroom, changing a diaper, or walking in the foyer with my crying one, I get discouraged.  Why do I come if I only catch bits and pieces of the sermon and singing?

It helps when I can take my boys to childcare, but it’s not always an option.  Our Sunday evening church does not have a kids program, but rather, intentionally welcomes kids to participate in the service.  It’s wonderful, but again, I’m consistently distracted with parenting responsibilities. 

One of our boys poops in his diaper exactly halfway through the service.  Every week.  On non-church nights, there is no poo at that time.  It’s a special, once a week occurrence.  We could ignore it, but frankly, the smell makes our eyes water. 

So, last week, I took his little hand in mine and we did our weekly walk to the restroom to clean up.  As he lay on the changing table, he noticed the ceiling.

“Mama, there are crosses up there!”

“Yes, sweetie.  I see that.  The lines on the tiles look like crosses, don’t they?”

God nudged my heart to have church right there in the bathroom.  I cleaned him up and we talked about crosses.

“Do you know why Jesus died on a cross?”

He replied, “For sins!”

We talked about what that means and how God is holy and without sin.  Then, we washed our hands and headed back to the sanctuary for the final song.

Another night, I was dreading church before we even left the house.  “What’s the point?”, right?  I asked God what to do about it.  Should I keep going to church or just stay home and take care of the kids in an easier environment?

God’s answer was this:  “Meditate on just one aspect of My character.”  I chose faithfulness. 

Later, during the service, I was doing my best to quiet a brewing tantrum.  I felt myself getting angry and frustrated.  Then, I stopped and remembered.  I closed my eyes, breathed deeply, and thought, “God, you are faithful.”  When the baby started crying and I left to walk him to sleep outside, I listened to the bubbling fountain in the church courtyard and said over and over, “You are so faithful to me.  Thank you.”  I didn’t listen to a sermon and I didn’t pray the same prayers as everyone else, but I had church.

What’s the point?  The point is to honor God.  By showing up, by teaching my kids the life pattern of worshiping with other believers, and to tell God how great He is.  That’s the point.

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