Our impious sabbath...

We were sitting in church. The kids like to draw while listening (we hope) to the speakers. Will started drawing cups, stemware-ish. He held it up to me and said, resoundingly,

"Look, Mom, the cup of Christ."

I gave him wide-eyed approval, "Ohhh," with my eyes, and a tight-lipped smile, hoping that would satisfy him. "The cup of Christ" is not a common phrase at church, unless you're familiar with Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade. I didn't want people to think we had some weird theory/obsession about a cup that Christ used, like a family home evening about the Holy Grail.

Will opened a can of worms. I think the kids (except Brigham) liked the way it sounded to repeat the phrase over and over...and over again, and not in a quiet whisper. Can you imagine Annie exclaiming(and a little too loud), "Da cup a chris, da cup a chris?" Then Lincoln wouldn't stop, "Hey, Will, where's my cup of Christ?" I think I heard that about five times, or more. It was so funny because I was caught off guard--telling them to stop, quiet down, because I wasn't sure if it was taking the Lord's name in vain. They weren't slandering His name, but it sounded so casual, so common-place in its repetition. I just didn't know.

Honestly, it was sweet and funny and embarassing all at once. Needless to say, we probably had a few weird looks, a few tolerant smiles, maybe even a few quiet chuckles from our fellow members. Hopefully, they'll remember what it was like with little ones in a meeting that went way over time (but I'm not bitter, meetings that are too long in a room that was too hot is the perfect combination for a peaceful, spiritual, family experience).