The Kids Drive Me Crazy: Why I Go to Church Anyway

This post was written when our son was about six months old (and our daughter 5).

There's a special difficulty in taking young children to the very long and numerous Holy Week services of the Orthodox church. And there's a particularly difficult age range that all children pass through (about 6 months to 24 months) that makes any service especially frustrating. At those ages, children are very alert and begin to actively explore the world around them, with their fingers and mouths, on their hands and knees, and eventually on their quick little feet.My tasoni (the priest's wife at the church I attended pre-ordination) rarely came, mostly stood outside the sanctuary with her active toddler, and left immediately after services. While I completely understood why she did that, I vowed that other people's judgmental glares wouldn't interfere with my attendance in my Father's house. However, the feeling of embarrassment as my child interrupts the service (and in the future runs away) over and over can be very hard to bear. I realize that any rational and compassionate mother has been in my shoes before, and most people aren't judging. But it's still hard.Today I nearly quit this completely outrageous attempt at prayer and worship when I realized I had missed Evlogimenos (the Palm Sunday Hymn: Coptic and English) and the Procession for Palm Sunday  twice. (Honestly, I missed 90% of last night's Vespers, this morning's Matins, this morning's Liturgy, and the Palm Sunday/Eve of Monday Pascha Prayers because of my baby boy's continual shrieking but who's keeping track?). But missing Evlogimenos was going to be the straw to break mama's back. All this effort and I had missed my favorite part of the day--twice.Why was I even at church? Every 10-15 minutes I was stepping out of the service to feed, change, cuddle, and coddle. Anything to buy a little stretch of peace before the altar of the Lord. Yet I had failed to secure the blessing of being present to chant this ancient hymn.Then, at one point during Liturgy, in a rare quiet moment, I found myself in the sanctuary during the Procession of the Lamb when the deacons and the congregation chanted Evlogimenos one more time. And God gifted me with a precious sight, a sign of the fruit of our weak efforts, a reason to fight to stay in church even with a mere 10% success rate: my five-year-old cheerfully singing along, clear and strong, knowing both the words and the tune extraordinarily well, happy to be there, rejoicing that our Lord entered into Jerusalem on a donkey.She reminded me that I wasn't fighting to be in church just for me. I was fighting to raise children who are comfortable in the presence of God, in His house, at His altar, singing hymns of praise and glorification and worship. So I'll fight on... But it's not easy.

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