Does an hour in the week really matter?

A wonderful, unusual thing happened in the middle of the week. My whole, entire, complete family attended Wednesday night church. Big deal? No, it's a real big deal. I have harbored this desire in my heart for so many years, I can't even remember how many years it has been. Why? Just why, is such a thing important to me or something that I have longed for my family? It is a choice. To stop in the middle of the busy week, to make the effort, to make the sacrifice, to be committed. Yes, I know one can argue how much homework our kids have these days. Yes, I know football practice is long, tiring, and doesn't finish until right at 6. Yes, I know there are many other options pulling at today's family. I am a firm believer in the strenght drawn from teaching dedication in our families. When my husband announced that he wanted to go to the Wednesday service, I felt so grateful, so thankful, so silly excited, that my family, all four of us, would be stopping in the middle of the week to worship. It is so easy to push this opportunity out of the way. It is so tempting to say it really doesn't make a difference. But....when my children are long grown and gone, maybe, just maybe, when their week has been unbearable, too stressed, not enough time to think, they will remember....a simple hour to let go, listen, visit, teach a class, play with children, sing a song, play a guitar, eat a meal with friends, feel God's presense and make it through the week. Does it matter? Oh yes, I think it really matters. When I stepped out of my class Wednesday night, and saw my husband and son talking, well....it made a big difference in my life. I was changed and it mattered.