Today we were “that” family in the pew.
You know the ones. The family who gets there 10 minutes late only to leave 10 minutes early. The one who doesn’t even try to sit in the sanctuary but opts for the overflow chairs in the foyer.
The family whose row is scattered with Animal Cracker crumbs and strewn with baby wipes. The one that has the never ending “Mary Poppins” diaper bag overflowing with books and hot wheels cars; none of which their kids are remotely interested in, of course.
Today we were that family in the pew who was constantly hushing their kids and readjusting their uncomfortable church clothes as they fidgeted in their seats. The one whose toddler was doing the the downward dog pose for most of the prayer and announcement time, showing off her turquoise and pink flowered panties for the giggling passersby.
We were the parents of those kids in the pew today. The ones who were absolutely exhausted and hardly got to listen to any of the sermon. The ones who keep trying, week after week.