if I don't draw close...

But I go to church, often only because I am dragging them with me, and often because if I don’t draw close to the liturgy and the Cross and the blessing, I may well go stark-raving mad.
- Tony Woodlief, "Confession of a child-dragging churchgoer," WORLDmag.com, March 18, 2011

Reading this piece by Woodlief, I remember all too well those years of dragging little ones to church. 
Little ones who didn't want to sit still. 
Little ones who couldn't whisper.
Little ones who may or may not have been thunked on the noggin when they fussed with one another.

There were the years of being THAT close to getting out the door when a distinct odor halted the entire operation until a diaper was changed.
There were the years of trying to take toddlers into the nursery, only to have them scream long enough that I would be called back, usually just in time for the sermon.
There were the years of "I have to go to the bathroom."  "Wait."  "I have to go to the bathroom."  "Wait." "I have to go to the bathroom.  NOW!"

Now, they know how to sit still and they get themselves dressed and fed and they don't need snacks or quiet toys for the service.
And even so, some Sundays I get that same pull to stay home,  only now it's because "I don't want to go..." and "why do I  have to go?" and "I'll go but you can't make me go to Sunday school..."
Dragging big ones to church can be equally as hard, in a completely different sort of way.

But I go to church, often only because I am dragging them with me, and often because if I don’t draw close to the liturgy and the Cross and the blessing, I may well go stark-raving mad.

I slip into the pew and bow my head and utter the same prayer as I have for all these years.
Please Lord, meet me here this morning.
Please Lord, show me your Glory.
Please Lord, show me your Grace.


And He does.
He speaks through the Word and the song and the prayer.
He shows Himself in people and community and fellowship.

We never leave the same as when we arrived.
Thankfully.