Clearly whoever penned those words (Lionel Ritchie perhaps?) was not much of a church goer, or at least never tried getting four children to church on time. I'll be the first to admit that Sunday mornings are far from easy at our house. They're fast, frenzied, and frenetic. The very antithesis of easy.
However, last Sunday was a gift of sorts. Fisher was sick, so I opted to stay home with he and Quincy for the first couple meetings. And it was easy . . . and beautiful. We snuggled up on the couch and read books for an hour. A true miracle within itself for a two year old. And dare I say it, possibly more faith affirming and spiritually enlightening than fighting him through a typical church meeting. Either way, it was a wonderful way to spend my Sunday morning.
