I saw you on Sunday morning.
I watched you walk down the aisle at least three times. On the first trip, you held a squirmy baby in one arm and a diaper bag in the other. Your second exodus involved a recalcitrant toddler, howling like a wolf at the moon. You made your last trip carrying the aforementioned baby and a nursing apron.
I observed the frustration in your eyes. You might have been asking yourself, “What’s the point of being here if I spend fifty percent of my time ferrying kids to and from the nursery, twenty percent answering random questions, and at least ten percent picking up spontaneously dropped objects.”
You might be thinking that absence is better than attendance…
Read the rest of my post over at TheCourage.com.