Tonight, for whatever reason, I began to think about how I do some things different that the way my family did when I was growing up. Want to waltz with me down memory lane?

Old ZionWhen I was growing up, our family attended church very regularly. If the doors were open, we were there…sometimes even when the doors weren’t open. Our Sunday routine was firm. Church in the morning,to the house for an enormous home-cooked lunch (I’m still not sure how my Mom did that.), homework or nap in the afternoon, and then put back on our “church clothes” and return for the evening service. Wednesdays were a little more rushed, but we were there when the service started at 7:30. As my siblings and I got older, we had a little bit of leeway on Wednesday nights depending on homework, but the default was church.

I’m not sure if it’s fatigue, rebellion, or apathy, but dating back to when I started college, I haven’t been a big attender on Sunday nights. The most convenient answer is that the work week creeps in early Monday. So I use Sunday nights to take a deep breath before the cycle starts again.

Perhaps the most compelling reason for me to stay home, though, is a bit of the guilt I have as a father. I’m gone for a majority of the hours that my girls are awake during the week. When I get home in the evening, I try to absorb as much of them as I can, but it’s never enough. Saturdays are usually spent trying to cram in all the things that we need to do as a family…usually involving fun and requiring exhaustion. Then on Sunday mornings, we devote ourselves to worship while others help teach our children some of the basic truths. The afternoon requires naps and rest, and then the evening service beckons us to come and be released right before bed time. I feel like I’m constantly splitting time between my girls (the Queen included) and all of them end up short-changed.

Sunday nights are a chance for me to have Ladybug 100% to myself. Butterfly loves and attends preschool choir and Kelley helps out with the children’s choir. If I went to the service, Ladybug would play contently in the nursery…but I would not sit contently in the pew. I value that hour as a chance to fully devote myself to Ladybug, to enjoy her giggles, welcome her hugs, and watch her personality blossom. I absolutely delight in her company.

So there, I admit it. I skip church. I guess I’m just not a good person….but Ladybug doesn’t mind.