Every Sunday, we load up the car and drive the windy road to our little church on a hill.
The children’s Sunday school class follows a spectacular curriculum that we love. The church’s baby room is filled with wonderful women who love holding babies on Sunday morning.
Yet, neither of my children go to their respective classes.
My oldest is easily overstimulated, and really struggles with large groups. He’s always dealt with separation anxiety, and though we work with him frequently, he’s still young and learning to muddle through his wide range of emotions. We are working with our children’s church workers each week to help him grow more comfortable, but it’s a slow process.
And I’m okay with that.
My baby is still nursing and taking a morning nap, which means he needs to stay with me during church, yet he won’t sleep in his car seat or in my arms. He will cry uncontrollably without his rest, so I usually end up leaving the service.
And I’m okay with that.
I take my toddler and my baby to the small church nursery just outside the sanctuary. I pull the curtains closed on the window connecting me to the body of believers and snuggle down into the nursing chair with my baby. I pull out the crayons and hand my toddler a snack.
Sometimes, this whole process seems pointless.
Why do I even bother taking my children to church when we end up squirreled away in the nursery?
Most of my time at church is spent shushing a loud toddler, rocking a crying baby, and trying my best to conceal the huge glob of spit up running down my chest. I rarely listen to the entire message, and my conversations are often interrupted by a fussy child (or two) who is hungry and ready for his afternoon nap.
As these thoughts tumbled through my mind one Sunday morning, my heart growing more and more embittered, I felt the Lord impress upon my heart a sweet and precious truth.
My commitment to the building up of the church body, in whatever season I’m in, will speak far more loudly to my children than any words I ever speak.
This difficult season is not overlooked by my Heavenly Father. Today is not forever.
Fellow mama who is walking through this season with me, take heart – your sacrifice is not in vain. Don’t give up.
Therefore lift your drooping hands and strengthen your weak knees, and make straight paths for your feet, so that what is lame may not be put out of joint but rather be healed. ~Hebrews 12:12-13
So keep shushing and teaching your toddler on Sunday mornings. Rock your baby and nurture the way only you can, mama. Pack an extra burp cloth or two, load up on crackers, and go in faith that what you’re doing, as hard as it is right now, matters a great deal.
Her children rise up and called her blessed; her husband also, and he praises her: “Many women have done excellently, but you surpass them all.” ~Proverbs 31:28-29
I’d love to hear from you in the comments! Do you spend your Sunday mornings wondering if it makes any difference?
By the way, I wrote a follow up post for how to spend your time in the church nursery. Don’t waste this opportunity to serve the body of Christ in a way only you can!
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