Retain the Routine

As we head into fall, we are seeing and welcoming patterns back into our household. Familiar weekend patterns and routines, or rituals, maybe rights of passage?

On Sundays, when I was a kid, my parents would drag myself and brothers out of bed. They would make their way with us kicking and screaming, on downtown to church, with us hoping that there would at least be good donuts at coffee hour to make it worthwhile.

We would sit in the same pew, close to the entry/exit, in the top balcony. I can over-analyze/justify three reasons for this – 1. This pew was larger so it could accommodate a family of five; 2. We were sometimes late and it was convenient for us to slip in if worship had already started; 3. We could get a good start on leaving as worship finished, either grabbing donuts or not – primarily dependent upon who the Vikings were playing that afternoon.

Sunday Routine

Yes, the Sunday morning routine included church/worship and football/worship. We would get home, mom would probably fix something to eat, and my dad and us boys would watch the Vikings run around the field with their big purple helmets.

It is a cozy thought, watching that football with dad. Fall was in the air, so there was that chill outside, but inside we were semicircled around that box, watching sport together, sharing “ews!” and “ahs!”, elation and disappointment (yes we are Vikings fans).

And it was easy, on those Sunday mornings – and afternoons to us kids.

With this recollection, I am not belittling church or God by any means. In fact that aspect of the Sunday morning routine is what has carried forth for me today. Going to church is the routine. My wife would kick my butt if I stopped, (though I do take days off). Our kids have come to expect it, and they like it. Beyond the morality and Godly expectations of it all there are great stories about heroes and villains, there are friends there who they don’t see at school, and yes, sometimes there are donuts.

The Vikings games I have slacked on. I enjoy throwing a football around - something about hitting a target with a moving object. But, I think there is too much money involved; and I can't take watching those big commentators with their expensive suits and fat rings; and the rules seem kinda sketchy; and there was the recent players strike and stadium talk and there are too many injuries and my kids will probably be as slow as I was and if they wish to play - be relegated to the offensive line... (no offense to former or future linemen).

In fact, I could see myself watching more football - if they played every Monday night - maybe with those commentators from Wipeout - as I sit with popcorn and am weary and settling down from a busy day with work and kids.

Soccer anyone? Yes to soccer, but there is still a draw to American football... perhaps it has been encoded into my DNA.

Acknowledging or not, we retain the routine. God is here, there - in every way. The Vikings seem to be here to stay, now – and we will soon have a new place to watch them (maybe), in our comfy corner of the world (and I don't mean the new stadium).