The past few Sundays, our sacrament-meeting prayers and talks have been inspired by Enos — not necessarily by topic but by length. The Book of Mormon's Enos didn't let time nor the setting sun deter him from his supplication, and lately our meetings have stretched beyond the allotted schedule.
Most complain about such long-windedness, except for nursery leaders. I often smile as a meeting goes into overtime and I hear the children begin to simultaneously rustle. One Sunday, a 3-year-old from across the chapel cried \"I want nursery\" prior to the belated closing hymn, signaling to all that sacrament meeting must adjourn.
It's always nice to have children begging to come to class.
Ticking clocks and flashing red lights on podiums are unnecessary reminders that a meeting is going long when young children are in the room. After 70 minutes, the internal clock in a toddler's mind starts ringing, and we know their reverence reserve has run dry. Depleted supplies of Cheerios and story books are another gauge that time in the chapel should come to an end.
I think our high-council speakers must be trained to read the toddler crowd from the podium because they have proved to be able to spot the squirming and shorten their talks accordingly. During our last visit from a high councilor, the youth speaker and the recently-returned missionary brought as his speaking companion took most of the meeting with their wonderfully prepared talks. I anticipated this high councilor would say a few words and wrap it up, but he started telling a story about his young son that captured the crowd. He could see even the toddlers were patient, and so he continued.
He spoke of the importance of temple attendance and the blessing of patience it provides parents whose young children might in fact drive them crazy or completely destroy a home, whichever comes first.He said just having returned from a trek to the temple — four hours one way from our town — helped him to be especially patient when he heard water dripping as he was settling down for the night. He went to the basement to find water streaming from all the ceiling can lights. Apparently, his son who always takes a bath before bed had turned on the tub faucet, plugged the overflow drain and went to find his book to read. The boy became so enthralled in his reading that he never did make it back to the bathroom, and the water ran with a fury out of the tub and beyond.
At the climax of his tale, this father smiled, looked down, shook his head and humbly kept the destruction in perspective. As soon as his story ended, his point conveyed, and his soft voice said, \"Amen,\" the children ended their extended attention span to cue a song and prayer of benediction.
I appreciated the high councilor's story — mostly because I, too, live with young children who inadvertently destroy something on a daily basis and patience is the virtue I'm working on the most.
As we happily met in nursery, I found myself more patient with children who spilled drinks, broke toys and ripped up pictures before parents could see the evidence of their lesson. It probably helped that I had 10 fewer minutes with them in class, and I give credit for my patience that day to those who stretched sacrament meeting with the right stories and the right perspective.