Getting My Religion Back

When my Boys were rambunctious toddlers my mom made me a promise:

"When they get older, you'll get your religion back," she told me.

Sunday mornings were such a hassle that I couldn't believe I'd ever look forward to the so-called day of rest. There was the stress of getting all the kids ready for church, and the associated Where-Are-My-Black-Socks refrain. Then once all six of us were lined up in a pew there was the constant vigilance to make sure no one was poking or prodding (or, as they got older, sleeping). Even Husband's and my tactic of dividing and conquering wasn't foolproof: With four of them, even if we sat between them there were always at least two within pinching range of a brother.

I spent the worship hours whispering dire warnings and praying with one eye open. I reconnected with God during my women's Bible study, or during my quiet time, NOT during church.

My faith was always present, but the practice of my religion was something that no longer fit my orderly preconception.

Last Sunday our congregation met to call a new children's minister. Dozens of youngsters were running around--and not one of them was ours. With all of our kids away at college, we could concentrate on the speaker without worrying that the crash we just heard had been precipitated by one of our Boys.

It occurred to me that Husband and I have moved into a new phase of our relationship with our congregation. We had been the ones with all those kids, so we had a vital interest in choosing youth pastors and children's ministers who came alongside the faith-building we were working hard to foster in our family's day-to-day-life. Now, though, we are on the sidelines as the parents of the next generation of kids scrutinize candidates' theology and examine teaching methods.

Does this mean we're no longer relevant in the life of our church? Are we the vestigial appendixes of the body of Christ? Well, certainly we've passed out of our previous roles, and maybe that's not a bad thing.

Realizing that the world does not revolve around us certainly is a liberating concept. We can attend (or not attend) services and events without wondering if we are setting a bad example for our children. We are less tied down to the children and teen events and programs, and can settle in where our gifts and graces are the best match--I can play the piano without feeling guilty that I'm not also teaching children's Sunday School.

There was one tiny twinge of regret Sunday as I realized that Husband and I need to find our new roles in our church. But then I laughed at the thought--I'm at the perfect age to pray with ceasing, to sing with abandon, to focus on God in my life. I can take Colossians 3:16 as my guide: "Let the word of Christ richly dwell within you, with all wisdom teaching and admonishing one another with psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, singing with thankfulness in your hearts to God."

I'm old enough now to get my religion back.