On Saturday morning, my 5 year old woke up and decided it was wrong our dog, five-year-old Sasha has never once attended church.
So she decided to “have church” and read her Franklin the Turtle book. Unconventional evangelism.
When my tween heard about it, she said proudly, “we are doing something right.”
Father’s Day was also our church’s fourth year celebration.
We had our picture made at the fun photo booth. Later when an adult asked my son where he got his mustache, he said, “Dude, it’s called puberty.”
During church, my oldest held my hand. She leaned over and said in my ear, “I like your wedding ring.”
I said thank you and returned to listening.
But she wasn’t done because then she whispered, “Can I have it when you die?”
We packed up a few more boxes after church yesterday and I noticed my youngest wrote her name on the tan fabric of my dining room chair in her five-year-old handwriting. I am not okay with that. And then I understood how my father felt when my older brother wrote “the ninja was here” in his Bible when we were kids.