I never used to care when my kids would interrupt a Sunday message to ask me a question. But now that we have a pastor who brings amazing teaching every week, I find myself more and more put out by the seemingly constant interruptions. Here's just a taste of the burning questions that can't seem to wait for a mere 35 minutes:
Mom, do you have any paper?
Mom, do you have a pen or pencil?
Mom, look at my heels. My shoes are giving me blisters.
Mom, do you have a bandaid?
Mom, is he almost done?
Mom, how much longer?
Mom, why are you laughing? Why was that funny?
Mom, what are you writing?
Mom, I'm tired.
Mom, can I sit on your lap?
Mom, what's for lunch?
Mom, I'm thirsty.
Mom, do you have any gum?
Mom, why is he still talking?
I guess I either need to embrace the interruptions, or sit somewhere else. And by "somewhere else", I mean a few rows away from my kids. Do I hear an Amen? Anyone? Helloooo???
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