Sunday, July 24, 2011

Church in the ToyBox

Today, I will be attending church,
like I have every Sunday of my entire life.

I am sure I will learn something.

I am sure I will laugh a few times.
Mormons can be so funny.
Even the world-wide leaders have great senses of humor.

I may even cry. I often do.

I will make too many comments in Sunday School and then feel bad that I did.

I will miss my friends from Tennessee but be grateful for the new ones that as members of the same church were here to welcome us with open arms, as soon as we arrived.


I will cook the family a good dinner.

I will wrestle with Caroline for the hour and 1/2 of the Sacrament Meeting and then rejoice when the closing hymn starts on the organ and she screams "Nursery" because she knows it's time to go and hang with her toddler buddies and color, play with bubbles, mold playdoh, sing songs, and have treats.

God bless you Nursery leaders.

But, I can't help thinking about what it would be like to worship in the Lego church.
Maybe it really wouldn't be a worshipin experience (I don't like legos that much)
but it would be awe-inspiring I am sure.

I think today, at one point, I will close my eyes and imagine myself here.
I will imagine the words coming from a plastic preacher.

But mostly I will imagine my 4 bedlamites as still as cellulose acetate.


ahhh...that's more like it.


I am sure Jordan would love to join me.

2 comments:

ShEiLa said...

That is quite the LEGO church... wow!

I guess you would need a couple of boys to appreciate legos. *Ü* They were a pain to constantly pick up... but I have some great memories. I think my oldest son now 26 just gave his collection to a fellow employees son who shares the same love.

Today I will be thankful for those will a sense of humor while I go to church.

ToOdLeS.

Holly said...

I don't think I could safely go to a Lego church. I would be too tempted to start taking it apart and build something new. Somehow, I don't think that would fly well . . . :)

PS I talk too much in Sunday School too . . .