Pollyanna Day 27

We didn't make it to church today, thanks to some conniving little children.

NOTE:  There's a lot of mormon-speak in this post.  If you're confused as you read, it's probably because you haven't been baptized...yet.  

Forgiving children.  Most Sundays, I dread going to church.  There, I said it.  Sitting for over an hour with four kids who know I can't beat them in public can be challenging, to say the least.  It takes every ounce of patience I have to get through the first half of church.  I rather enjoy the second half, since my children become the responsibility of others, and I get to sit quietly and learn about all my spiritual shortcomings in peace.

I wish I had a nickel for every time someone said to me, "I just don't know how you do it."  My response is usually something like, "Uh, you don't want to know."   I won't lie.  It's not easy.  It's exhausting most Sundays.  But I don't go to be entertained or even comfortable.  I go because I need it and my kids need it.  And I'm clinging to the hope that one day, it's going to pay off.

So today, when I woke up and my oldest child was complaining of not feeling well, I nodded my disbelieving nod and urged her to continue getting ready for church.  Next thing I knew, my  next oldest child was on the couch saying she did not feel well.  After that, the oldest child was on the couch under a blanket complaining that she felt nauseous every time she stood up.  I wasn't happy about it, but I resigned myself to the fact that we were probably missing church today.

Sure enough, as soon as we were close to the church-is-almost-over mark, suddenly everyone was off the couch and dancing around the house...and hungry.   I made sure they knew how displeased I was at their trickery and how I didn't appreciate having to miss church for kids who were pretending to be sick.   Did I mention that I expressed my displeasure quite LOUDLY?  

A few minutes later, as I was working on a post for my other blog, I see my kids standing in the kitchen, whispering and busily doing something with small plastic cups and water and bread.   When I asked what they were doing, they told me they wanted to make it up to me, so they had planned to hold church at home to make me feel better.

Man, is their mommy a jerk.

They were even wearing Sunday clothes (see pic above) and had dressed Lucas in HIS Sunday clothes.  They told me they wanted to have "sacrament" (don't worry, we didn't do anything sacreligious or irreverent here).  They were going to have testimony meeting and have opening and closing prayers and songs.  They asked me to be their primary teacher and we had a short little lesson from the scriptures.

This was one of those moments that made me cry a little.  I'm thankful for good little kids who redeem themselves every now and then, even when it's really MOMMY who needs the redemption!