Sacred Rhythms: Finding Worship in the Chaos of Parenthood #51
"You are my God. My times are in your hands." – Psalm 31:15a
Before I became a parent, I had a good idea that routines would be crucial. The Science seems to be pretty clear on it:
"Routines provide a sense of security, predictability, and structure, which helps children develop self-regulation skills, manage emotions, build confidence, and adapt to changes more easily. Ultimately, routines promote positive social and emotional development throughout their childhood."
Now that I’m a parent, I understand this on a whole new level. When one of my kids gets off their routine—be it a sleep regression, skipping a meal, or disruptions from family or friends—you can see things unravel fast and their new unregenerate self pops out quickly. And yet, no matter how carefully we stick to a schedule during the week, Sunday always arrives to shake things up.
Most Sundays, we’re at church. I’ll admit, the past year and a half made that tougher than usual. A leg injury kept me from driving for a while, and getting anywhere became a challenge. Thankfully, we’re past that, and we’re getting back into the rhythm (ironic, right?) of going to church.
During the week, our kids stick to a solid schedule. They eat, nap, and play at consistent times. But Sunday? Sunday tosses that predictability out the window. Church overlaps with their routine, and while they’re in the nursery, one of us—usually my wife—is with them. It’s like a regular day, only with half a dozen other kids and zero structure.
And let’s not forget the nursery germs. It feels like a guarantee that some kid will show up sick, meaning the whole family gets a fresh round of colds or stomach bugs to kick off the week. Case in point: as I write this, my daughter has been up all night throwing up. Thanks, nursery!
Despite all of this, I’ve come to realize that getting to church on Sundays is something sacred—set apart from all the other times in my week. It’s not about me: my exhaustion, my schedule, my time, or even my excuses. Now, as a parent, I carry the responsibility for these sacred moments, and that realization has hit me in three profound ways:
I. Sacred Space Holds, Even When Routine Breaks
Our youngest is about three weeks into a sleep regression. This means my wife or I are up with him in the early hours of the morning, night after night, trying to comfort him and get him back to sleep. The sleep regression has disrupted our routine—a reminder that plenty of things will.
But while losing sleep is hard, I’m learning that these breaks in routine lead to new rhythms. More importantly, they quietly teach our kids that no matter what life throws at us, our Sacred Space—our commitment to worship—remains unchanged.
II. We Are All Worshippers
One concept from my ministerial training hit me like a ton of bricks: every human being is a worshipper. Whether we’re religious or not, we all worship something. Time is one of the many false gods we create. What we devote our time to often reveals what we worship and how we define ourselves.
Creating and prioritizing Sacred Space with our kids—far beyond just attending a Sunday service—helps orient them toward the only One worthy of worship. It also equips them to recognize and resist the “false sacred” things we all gravitate toward.
This is why I make it a point every week to have one of my kids stay with me during the worship part of the service. They may not fully understand what’s going on, but I want them to be immersed in God’s presence. And you know what? It’s working. My 3-year-old may not know all the words, but later in the week, I’ll catch her mumbling bits of the songs we sang.
III. From Breaks to a New Routine
If I can teach my kids that we are all worshippers and help them recognize their tendency to worship anything but the Creator, then the “break” Sunday brings to our routine can transform into something even greater: a new rhythm that shapes their hearts.
Sunday becomes not just a disruption to our schedule but a cornerstone of their foundation. It’s an opportunity to anchor them in what matters most—and that’s a routine worth keeping.