03/05/2026
Occupying the row before mine was a family of five: a man, his wife, and their three children. One of them was a restless toddler in a beautiful dress.
It was that moment in church when everyone meant business.
Hands lifted.
Eyes closed.
The sanctuary heavy with reverence.
Worship had begun.
I was seated with my own battalion. I placed them strategically inside the row while I sat at the edge, positioned where a single glance could restore order if necessary. Years of motherhood have taught me the power of silent eye contact.
Just as I began to settle into worship, I noticed something unsettling.
My children were too quiet.
No subtle nudging.
No whispered negotiations.
That kind of silence is suspicious.
I disengaged from my spiritual ascent just long enough to investigate.
It wasn’t my children.
It was the toddler in front of us.
She had grown cranky, as toddlers do. Her mother, clearly trying not to lose her own moment of worship, handed her a phone.
But not just a phone.
TikTok.
And suddenly, from a respectable distance, my children, and the older siblings in that family, had front-row seats to unrestricted content.
As soon as I understood what was happening, I quietly redirected my children’s attention without drama or commentary.
When we got home, one of them mentioned it:
“Imagine, a baby watching TikTok.”
I quickly reminded her that watching from a distance did not make them innocent either. They could have looked away.
That ended the conversation for them.
But not for me.
I kept thinking about how easy it is, especially for mothers, to choose the immediate relief over the long-term lesson.
Tantrums are inconvenient.
Public disruptions are embarrassing.
Exhaustion is real.
And sometimes the fastest solution is the glowing screen in your handbag.
But every shortcut postpones a confrontation.
Every postponed confrontation compounds.
Children test boundaries, that is developmentally normal.
But how we respond determines whether we will manage that behavior temporarily… or train it permanently.
Parenting is hard work.
Motherhood can feel harder because we are often expected to remain soft, composed, and accommodating, even while enforcing structure.
But giving in for convenience today can become chaos tomorrow.
The easy way out is rarely the wise way forward.
It won’t always be comfortable.
But it will be worth it.