On Saturday night, I told the Monkey and the Puppy that we would be getting up early the next morning to go to church. The Monkey asked, What is church, mama?

Egads.

Well, Church is a place where we go to learn about God and think about the good things he wants us to do to help each other. Do you remember when we pray at bedtime? Remember that we thank God for the things in our lives?

His little face scrunches up. I don’t remember, he says.

Mr Puffles interjects. Yelling, Church is the HOUSE of God!

So, incredibly helpful.

The Puppy yells out: I PRAY at bedtime! I like princesses!

So, we went to church the next morning. The church is a medium-ish sized church of unknown denomination (at least to us) on the edge of our neighborhood. Mr Puffles and I have actually been there a couple of times to cast our votes for various elections, but this is the first time for a service.

My mother and brother were there waiting for us as it was my mother’s idea to attend. She’s been “looking” for a church for us out here, and we’ve been to several that span from a large Protestant church with a maze of rooms and cooridors to a small, bare Vietnamese Catholic church where there it was standing room only and I couldn’t understand a word of the service (although I spent most of the time entertaining a bored Monkey in the spooky, poorly lit church basement stairway). My mother and my MIL have both been very concerned about our non-religious lifestyle and Mr Puffles rather agnostic views. I think they’re concerned the children will turn into heathens.

Once we entered, a pleasantly round, fatherly-type pastor greeted us and introduced himself. Apparently, my mother had told him all about us. We then shuffle into a nearby hallway and dropped off the baby in the dark nursery and walked the boys downstairs to the preschool church school area. They were shuffle-y and shy, but agreed to stay without us as they clung to one another and sat down in the preschool circle time.

Then, it was off to the service. It reminded me of the church I attended as a child and teenager in many ways. A lot of singing songs we didn’t know from words displayed on the walls from a power point presentation with a “Praise Team”. I don’t know what happened to just singing hymns from the old hymnals. But I miss it, and I really don’t like this Praise Team singing. I mean. Really. I DON’T know the song or the words and it’s just sort of mumbling along. At least with the hymnal, you can sight read the music!

After the service, we went to pick up the children and they were sufficiently ecstatic to see us as if they had been separated for a long period of time. The boys even displayed lovely pieces of religious preschool artwork. Clever paste projects that said things like “God is speaking. Puppy is listening!”

Mr Puffles asked them if they liked Sunday School.

Yes, Monkey said. We liked it.

Do you want to go back next week?

Yes. Let’s come back next week!

I guess that decides it. After trying different churchs for a few years, the boys have decided it.

PS. A few days later, we happened to be watching something on tv when someone mentioned Jesus. Monkey perked up.

Hey! He said Jesus. They talked about him in that school!

I guess it is working.