Foggy Memories

Most people who attend church regularly end up sitting in the same area, if not the exact same place, week after week.  I'm no different.  "My spot" is on the right side, up near but not right on, the front.  It just seems like a comfortable view.  If I'm with others, I generally sit where they prefer - it makes no difference to me.

Have you ever worshiped at a very, very old church?  Sometimes you see the families' names on brass plates on the corner of the pews.  You also might notice a rectangular area where something obviously had been affixed previously. This was seriously "my pew!"

This morning, I was in my same familiar place, behind the same family.  Every week, we sit close, although not on purpose, I'm sure.  Either they're behind me, or I'm behind them.  The family is wife, husband, teenage boy, teenage girl, and girl about 8 years old or so.  And what a lovely family they are!

The children in this family never fight or elbow each other or aggravate each other in any way.  I've sat around plenty of families where this happens and (usually the mother) the parent(s) seem totally unaware.  As a result, the children never get corrected, never are taught to behave and are a distraction to those around them trying to pay attention to the service and, actually, pray.

My thoughts turned to my own children while they were at home growing up, many years ago.  They were taught to behave perfectly, in church.  We always tried to sit in the first row, so they would have no excuse to not pay attention.

One week, our family was sitting sort of in the middle of the church.  Four of them, approximately ages 6 to 10, started quietly elbowing each other; their faces were full of devilment.  I tolerated it for a couple of minutes, then whispered to them, "Quit it!"  They totally ignored me!  I told them to quit once more.  Again, they totally ignored me.

This was terrible!  Finally, I glared at them at whispered, "You quit NOW or you will GET THE SHOE when we get home!!"  They quit for several minutes; then they resumed their silent devilment.  I said not a word but inside I was fuming.

The instant their bodies got inside our house, I very firmly announced, "Line up."  The four of them did so.  Then I commanded, "Turn around."  They dared not do otherwise.  Next, "Bend over."  They all did, in unison. Then I proceeded to take off my shoe, and give each one a hard (but physically harmless) wallop on the rear end.  They were motionless.  I commanded, "Go!" and they did, without a word.

They never again misbehaved in church.

That was my memory.

Last week I was chatting about it with one of my daughters.  She said, "Mom, I think you're only remembering the good times.  We were bad all the time."  I guess we have different perspectives!  The truth probably lies somewhere in the middle.

Times did change, however.  When one of their yet unborn siblings was a bit older, and was incredibly 'mouthy' toward me, I threatened to slap her across the face.  She blatantly told me, "I'm going to scream, 'child abuse, child abuse!' "  My, how the times changed!  I still believe that a reasonable 'wallop' on the back end settles lots of issues of childcare when rarely used.  (p.s.: I countered said child's insult with, "Then I'll make it worth my while if I have to go to jail."  At that, we both laughed and the situation was defused.)

Re: 'regular' church attendance.  Once a friend and I were discussing his church attendance when he was growing up.  He reported, "Mom said we went to church regularly.  We did - once a year on Christmas, most years."  No, No, No, I don't think so!  'Regular' church attendance is going every week unless you're sick.

Dear God, Bless all mothers, Bless all fathers.  Bless my mother and my father.  Help all parents realize the critical importance of taking their precious little children to worship You and pray to You, together with their community, regularly, in their church.