Every Sunday morning, without exception, this kid has an, "I hate going to church" meltdown. The tears flow and the fists fly, but somehow I manage to wrestle him into his church clothes and he trudges his little fanny to the van. I sometimes worry that he exhibits the same bad attitude during his primary class, but when his teacher sends me a picture like this, I know there's hope. That's Klive snuggled up with his best pal, Isaiah, listening intently to the lesson. Our family usually does a daily Sunday recap at the dinner table, and lately, Klive's even been contributing! He may not get every scripture story right - for example, in his mind, Samuel the Lamanite was a cool guy on a mountain who dodged bullets and ray guns while telling the people to stop being mean - but he gets the general idea. In fact, the other afternoon, all on his own, he shared a story he heard about a dad who couldn't find his son out in the snow until he said a prayer and Heavenly Father showed him where his son was lying. Looks like the gospel is getting in there, despite his weekly rage-fest.
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