So, yesterday, I, of course, spend the morning at church. I mean, it was Easter Sunday…pretty sure that’s what a lot of people do (or what the parade). Crowded, of course. Have to show up early or risk not getting a seat.
Still sit next to kids.
Don’t get me wrong, I have nothing against kids or kids at church. They just squirm. And color. And play with stickers. Next to me in my Sunday best.
I thought for certain I’d return home with fancy sparkles, new stickers, or vibrant colors highlighting my drab, black coat and pants (add a little color to your life).
Sure, kids need distractions. What happens, however, when a crayon rolls two rows away? I feel bad and wish I had Reed Richards’ arms…
What happens when kids eat snacks? I get jealous and wish I’d brought my own [I mean, I do have snacks at home, now and I can eat them since Easter ends Lenten fasts].
Really, I’m just not as prepared as kids are for the ordeal that is church. They get to color, snack, attempt to steal other people’s books and papers (the kids just wanted them to focus on the service and not read?), and climb on the seats [fortunately, I don’t resemble a climbing structure (at least not that day)]. I just get to sit, stand, kneel, and sing (and nap during the homily). In the end, I just guess they’re more in-tune with the “worship in your own way” than I am. They definitely move the way the Spirit moves them (or their parents).
Oh, and luckily, my suit came out the victor… this time.