Why Do We Bother?

Years ago when Taylor was a squirmy curious baby who did not like the restraints of being in any sort of formal setting such a three hours of church every Sunday, I remember saying to my husband how easy it would be to go inactive just for a little while. Really, what was the point in going when I spent the entire three hours pacing the halls with a fussy baby? But we kept going. And four extra kids later, we are still going. Occasionally, I am reminded of how easy it would be to just stay home.

Like today for example. We arrived at church to find that the missionaries had taken our seat in the back corner! You know what happens when someone takes your seat. It throws everyone else off. We had to sit in the Peterson's row so the Peterson's had to sit in the Rose's row... you get the idea. But more than just wrecking a perfectly good seating arrangement, for us it spelled trouble with Kaya. See, when we can sit in that back corner, it is a little bit easier to contain our little escaper. We can block in one side with the car seat, leaving only one other direction for her to go and usually we can grab her before she gets to the end of the row. Today she had all kinds of options. First she raced out the door that heads to the nursery. After a couple of other attempts, I made Kendall close the door. (That makes it a lot warmer and stuffier, so I'm sure everyone loved that we did that). Then she headed up front toward the piano. When that got old she headed the other way up toward the main exit. We spent the entire time retrieving her, much to her delight. She thought it was the ultimate game of chase.

Meanwhile, I was also dealing with Spencer and Lynnsey fighting over who got to sit to on my left side. Never mind that there was a seat on my right too. I had Lynnsey trying to drape herself over my lap and Spencer trying to mash her head and whining that he wanted to sit on my lap. During the Sacrament, Spencer repeatedly pulled his shirt over his head and yelled: "What are you looking at hocky puck?" (a reference from Toy Story, I'm told). Once I convinced him to quit that, he started running laps all around our row, and making sure to move in a little wider arc when he reached me so that I couldn't grab him. Grinding pretzels into the carpet was an added bonus today. And of course, all of this is occuring while my husband sits up front blissfully unaware of the turmoil I undergo every week. Yes, the thought once again crossed my mind: Why do I bother to come every week?

Maybe it is because of the joy I feel when I see Taylor taking his responsibility as Deacon's Quorum president so seriously; making sure every week that there are people to pass the sacrament. And then watching him pass it with such reverence. Maybe it was the rest hymn where we stood and sang "I am a Child of God" and I had Lynnsey lay her head on my arm as she sang the words so sweetly. I looked over to see Kendall and Taylor singing too. And no one could miss the cute little two year old girl up front who was belting out the words in her tiny little voice. It might be looking over to see Kendall taking notes during one of the speaker's talks. I might keep going because of amazing people like our young women who pulled Timothy and I out of class so that we could come in as they presented my mom with a beautiful quilt that they had made as a tribute to my sister Kayleigh. Or maybe I come because of people like Angie who was willing to jump in and teach the lesson in Relief Society when our teacher and the education counselor were both missing. Not only did she teach it, but she taught it beautifully and it is one I will not soon forget. I guess there are a lot of reasons I keep coming in spite of so many exasperating moments. Mostly I come because I know it's where I belong. I know that everything that I am going through with these rambuctious young kids, others understand because they have likely been there before too. And I go because the spirit I feel at church is something that I cannot live without. Even if I have to try a little harder to feel it in the midst of all the drama in the back of the room.