I was wearing this bracelet today and it made me think of all the kids in church “mishaps” that we have experienced. Including, but not limited to, our oldest loudly correcting a pastor during the sermon. (My son was correct in his correction by the way.) I decided it was time for a “Hey, you are not alone in your public embarrassment” post. So here it is.

Church has always been a favorite place for me to bring my kids. When my oldest was born he was loved on and passed from person to person during the service. He loved the attention he got. It kept him quiet and focused. My second son, the same thing. So when our daughter was born and we changed churches with people who didn’t know us, she didn’t get passed from person to person. Sadly, she missed out on all that lovin’. I missed it too- for selfish reasons. My husband was working Sunday mornings and I had to sweat, struggle, and wrestle with three little ones in the pew by myself without help. I was miserable- but knew I wanted them in church even if it meant for that hour and a half I was ready to cry and go home. When my husband stopped working Sundays and we started being able to go together it was so much easier. However, we were still out numbered. What happens when you are out numbered and you need them to behave? Something. Something always happens. Usually something that makes people say, “You really should write a book.” Here are two times that really stick out as those moments.

My second son has issues with textures and food. So communion is not a favorite thing for him unless it’s real bread. I will never forget going up for communion and hearing my, then five year old son, say to the pastor, “No thanks….I’ll have a chocolate shake.” I ask you- what would you have done? I did what seemed logical and put my hand over his mouth and said to the confused pastor, “He’s kidding…”

The most recent one was with my daughter. She is just starting to have a faith of her own, and understand different things. She noticed a banner at church a few weeks back and loudly “whispered” to me that those hands were “the hands of Gawd”. I whispered back that she was right. She started looking around for other symbols in the sanctuary and pointed out crosses and doves. She looked down and spotted my bracelet in the picture here. “Look mom! You have four crosses! But what is this?” I quietly told her it was an angel wing. She looked at me with wide horrified eyes and didn’t even attempt to whisper, “You killed an angel?! You KILLED an angel to wear that bracelet?” Church giggles then took over my body and I shook and tried to whisper back to her that I had not killed anything.

I wouldn’t trade those moments for anything even if they were embarrassing at the time. The list of things they have done and said is long. I stare at them mouth open in shock when they come up with a one liner that out does the best comedian. Kids have such a way with words. Even inappropriate ones.