A few weeks ago, I tried to skip church.
The two older kids had been up late several nights in a row because of the high school musical and cast parties, the youngest because she thinks she should stay up late when they do. And that weekend, we would "spring forward," losing another hour of sleep.
"I'm invoking the once-a-decade skip church policy," I said. "You three don't have to go in the morning."
I decided I would skip as well. I'd heard rumors of people sleeping in on Sunday mornings and lounging in their pajamas while sipping coffee and reading The New York Times. What the heck, I thought. I'll give it a try.
My wife left early for the church where she works. (It's too far to be our whole family's church home.)
I slept in a little longer. I enjoyed a couple of hours of quiet. By 9:30 a.m., I'd finished my oatmeal and was listening to NPR when I thought, If I hurry, I can shower and make it to worship by 10. One thing led to another, and before I knew it, I was pulling into the church parking lot.
How could you fail at skipping church? I thought as I entered.
