Sundays are just plain hard when there are little ones in the house.  Either your plans of sleeping in fell to naught and everyone was grumpy and tired the entire time you were getting ready for church.  Or you actually did sleep in and therefore everything was rushed and you were finally getting into the car, hoping you’d actually remembered the Bible, at the time when you were supposed to be getting to church.

Even an old stand-by outfit can’t fix a momma’s bad hair day.  And the drive to church is spent trying to calm your soul and preparing yourself to answer the inevitable questions of “How are you?” with an answer that’s somehow truthful and encouraging.

You sneak in late with whispered “hushes” to the children, ever-so-thankful to find the back row empty—likely with chairs placed there just for you by the thoughtful pastor who saw you pulling in.  And as everyone sinks into their chairs, you wonder—is it really worth it?  Why are we commanded not to give up meeting Jesus here, in the fellowship of other believers?

Even the singing is fraught with wiggles and fights over the oh-so-noisy bulletin.  All a momma can do is close her eyes and try to worship anyway.  Spilled crayons add punctuation to the sermon and a potty break leaves you wondering what you missed.

But the pastor is talking about letters and living epistles and the few words of Jesus that you do catch go deep, to be digested another day.

And then the woman in front of you tells you your children are beautiful and that she’s a little bit jealous.  The ladies sitting around the table at the potluck remind you of how delightful your children are.

And like Jesus, they let the little children come.

The grandma who was a mother long ago puts her arm around you and tells you she knows they take a lot out of you. Another young dad says he’s so tired and you realize you’re not the only ones with seasonal work that are run ragged right about now. That chat with a young mom is just what you need to know you’re not alone, whether it’s her overflowing washing machine or the fact that your summer help just left.

Like Jesus, they think we are beautiful and love us where we’re at.

Then the little people who wouldn’t sing or sit still in church sing about Jesus in loud and happy voices all the way home.

And I remember: we go to church because we see Jesus there, in His people.

Sundays with little ones are difficult.  Everything with little ones is difficult.  But it will be worth it.  Even if it doesn’t feel like it right now.

It will be worth it all, when we see Jesus.

{linking up with Life: Unmasked today}