I was sitting in church this last Sunday, and I looked over at my 8-year old who was quietly playing a game on his phone.
There were a couple adults who (I’m guessing by their expression) assumed I’d scold him, tell him to put it away and listen to the message.
But that’s not the kind of mom I am.
I smiled at him. I kissed his messy hair. Gave him a quick fist bump. And I continued enjoying the message.
When it was time to stand and sing, he continued to sit.
I stood, and every few minutes I’d look down and meet his eyes and smile at him, and he’d smile back. And I allowed him to keep playing on his phone.
Because that’s the kind of mom I am.
I’m the kind of mom who is just happy to be near my son in church, even if he doesn’t seem to pay attention.
It doesn’t mean my way is right or wrong.
It’s just the kind of mom I’ve chosen to be.