The Sacred Ordinary: Finding God in Early Childhood Chaos

I was standing at the kitchen sink last Tuesday with my hands in soapy water and a toddler wrapped around my left leg and I was trying to pray. It wasn't a formal prayer. I didn't fold my arms or close my eyes. I just sent a short one up while I scrubbed a sticky spot that had been on the counter since breakfast. Please help me be patient today. Please help me notice something good.

And right then my second grader walked in holding a drawing she had made at school. It was a picture of our family with a giant sun in the corner and the words "I love my family" written in wobbly marker. She handed it to me and I dried my hands and I looked at it and I thought maybe that was the answer. Maybe God was saying look. Here is something good right in front of you.

I have been thinking a lot about where God shows up in the middle of early childhood parenting. Not in the quiet moments because there are almost no quiet moments. But in the sticky and the loud and the interrupted. I am starting to believe that the sacred is hiding in the ordinary and I have been missing it because I was looking for something more polished.

How to Do Family Scripture Study With Toddlers

We tried to have family scripture study this morning and I had a plan ready. I had the Book of Mormon open and I had a question ready and I had a snack prepared for the toddler to keep her busy. It lasted about ninety seconds before the toddler grabbed the book and started chewing on the corner and the baby started crying and my teenager asked if he could just read his own scriptures in his room.

I almost gave up right there. But David looked at me and shrugged and said "Well that was our scripture study" and he said it like it was enough. And I realized he was right because we opened the book and we tried. The toddler heard a verse even if she also ate part of the page.

I wrote about this idea of finding the gospel in the middle of a hectic schedule in Sacredness of Unplanned Moments and I keep coming back to it because the unplanned moments are where most of our spiritual life actually happens. The formal lesson is the goal but the real teaching happens in the ninety seconds we managed to get through before everything fell apart.

Dealing With Parenting Guilt in LDS Families

Here is the part I don't say out loud very often. I carry a lot of guilt about the spiritual life of our home. I look at the families who seem to have it together and I look at our kitchen table with the sticky spots and the crayon marks and the half-finished coloring pages and I wonder if I am doing enough. The Proclamation on the Family comes to mind and the part about rearing children in love and righteousness and I read it as a standard I am failing to meet instead of a promise I am trying to live into. The love part I can do. But the righteousness part feels harder on the days when I lose my temper before breakfast.

But I am learning that grace covers the parenting too. Not just the children's mistakes but mine. The Lord knows I am tired and He knows I am trying and He knows that some days the most spiritual thing I do is apologize to my kids after I yell at them for spilling the milk. That apology is a form of discipleship. It is teaching them what repentance looks like in real life.

Finding Peace in a Chaotic Home as an LDS Parent

I used to think that feeling the Spirit meant feeling calm. But calm is rare in a house with young children. So I started looking for the Spirit in other places.

I found it in the moment when my toddler stopped crying long enough to let me rock her. I found it in the way my second grader said a prayer over her lunch without being reminded. There was also the split second of patience I had before I lost my temper and the way that split second felt like a gift from somewhere outside myself.

I wrote about this in Sacred Spaces in the Chaos and I think the principle is the same. The Spirit doesn't require silence. It requires openness. And sometimes the most open I am is when I am too tired to put up walls.

Teaching Gospel Principles to Young Children in Real Life

My second grader asked me the other day what it means to be a disciple of Jesus. I was cutting up an apple for her lunch and I almost gave her a polished answer. But instead I said "I think it means you try to be like Him and when you mess up you try again."

She thought about it for a second and then she said "So like when I hit my brother and then I say sorry?"

Yes. Exactly like that.

The gospel principles we are trying to teach our children aren't complicated. Love God and love people and try again when you fail. The complication comes from us. We want to wrap these simple truths in lessons and object lessons and handouts and activities. But the children are learning them in the moments when we live them out loud.

And these words, which I command thee this day, shall be in thine heart: And thou shalt teach them diligently unto thy children, and shalt talk of them when thou sittest in thine house, and when thou walkest by the way, and when thou liest down, and when thou risest up.

Deuteronomy 6:6-7

I read that verse and I notice the words "when thou sittest in thine house" and "when thou walkest by the way." The teaching happens in the ordinary movements of the day. Not in a special classroom. Not during a perfectly prepared lesson. In the house and on the road and at the table and in the car.

An LDS Perspective on Grace in Parenting

I have been thinking about what grace means for a parent. I used to think grace was something I needed to extend to my children when they made mistakes. But I am starting to understand that I need it just as much for myself.

The Savior's ministry was full of messy moments. He healed people in crowded streets and He ate with people who had bad reputations and He let a woman wash His feet with her tears. He didn't wait for things to be clean and orderly before He showed up. The middle of the mess is exactly where He went.

I think He shows up in our homes the same way. He doesn't wait for us to have a perfect family prayer or a perfectly behaved set of children. He shows up while the toddler is throwing food and the baby is crying and the teenager is rolling his eyes. The middle of it is where He comes because that is where we are.

Frequently Asked Questions

How do I handle it when my children are too restless for formal family prayer or scripture study?

Shift your focus from the structure to the intent. If a formal lesson is impossible, try a micro-moment. A quick prayer of gratitude for a toy. A single verse read while a child is in your lap. God sees the heart and the effort more than the duration.

Does feeling overwhelmed by the chaos of parenting mean I am failing in my sacred duty?

Not at all. Feeling overwhelmed is part of the human experience, especially in the early childhood years. Your sacred duty is to lead with love and keep trying. That includes the humble act of asking for help and relying on the Savior's grace for your own patience.

How can I teach my children to love the gospel when our home environment often feels frantic?

Children learn more from your reactions than from your formal lessons. When you respond to a spill with patience or a tantrum with love, you are teaching them the most essential part of the gospel. Your authenticity in the struggle is more powerful than any polished performance.

What if I don't feel the Spirit during the chaos?

Look for the Spirit in smaller places like a moment of unexpected patience or a child's unprompted kind word or a sudden quiet in the middle of the noise. The Spirit doesn't always come as a burning in the bosom. Sometimes it comes as a deep breath you didn't know you had left.

How do I let go of the guilt when I lose my temper with my children?

Apologize and try again. That is the pattern of the gospel. Your children will remember your humility more than your perfection. Every morning is a new chance to start over and the Lord's mercies are new every morning too.

I don't have this figured out. Most days I am still standing at the sink with soapy hands and a toddler on my leg and a prayer that feels too short and too small. But I am starting to believe that the short small prayers count. And the sticky counters count. And the drawing with the wobbly marker counts.

God is in the middle of all of it. I just have to look up from the sink long enough to notice.

with love, Melissa