When I was growing up and in seminary, I would always hear other students describe conference weekend in their house, how they would all sit down together in their pajamas, have snacks and quietly enjoy the talks for conference, and how it had always been like that in their house. When I got married, I decided that we would have an experience like that every time conference weekend was here. For our first two conferences together it worked out well. We enjoyed sitting together and listening to the talks and feeling inspired. I may have even taken notes. It was legit (do kids still say that?). Then the babies started coming, and life and conference weekend would never be the same.
I still hear people talk about how their kids, aged similar to mine, all sit quietly and take in every word that comes form the mouths of the speakers at conference, and it used to really frustrate me, because we could not re-create that in our household. Then I realized something. Those people are lying. Maybe not lying, that's harsh, but at the very least they are not sharing the whole truth. No little kid is going to sit perfectly still and quiet and attentive through 8 hours of conference. That just does not happen.
When I first realized that, my first thought was, "Well, why try then?" Why try to make the kids sit down and listen to the talks. It was frustrating to me, to my wife, to the kids, and then nobody is feeling the Spirit at that point, so there was no point. I kind of thought, at first, let's not even worry about turning it on at all. My wife and I could always go back and read the talks or watch them later on the Internet, after the kids were in bed and we had some peace and quiet and could concentrate on the message of each talk. This seemed like a good idea to me, a good compromise. The kids would get what they wanted, a couple of days to do whatever they wanted, and we got what we wanted, an undisturbed viewing of conference. I didn't just think this was a good idea, I thought it was genius, and I thought all those people with their perfect kids were the ones really missing out.
Then I had another thought. I could picture my kids in primary, and their teacher asking them to identify a picture of the prophet, and my kids would have no idea, but they would know all about Star Wars or Marvel or My Little Pony, or whatever. I didn't like this thought as much. I didn't want my kids to be like that. I wanted them to know from an early age who the prophet is, I wanted them to know his name and what he looked like and what he taught. I wanted them to be excited when they saw a picture of him. Like, "blurt out the answer before the teacher asks the question because you're so happy to see him" excited. That's what the kids from the perfect families would do. Well, probably not, they would probably sit reverently until the teacher called on them, and then they would stand and politely respond to the query. My kids weren't perfect, so now I found myself in the same spot I was at the beginning, and I didn't know what to do.
Then I remembered something. I remembered the story about the little children in the New Testament, who wanted to come and see the Savior. His disciples tried to keep them away. Not because they were big meanies. I think it was more that they thought the same thing I was thinking. Little kids are not reverent all the time. They might run when they're not supposed to, or shout or climb all over Jesus like He's a jungle gym. They probably thought they were not going to behave perfectly. And they were probably right. Jesus knew all of this too, but he told them to let the kids come to him. He knew they weren't going to sit and hang on His every word, but He also knew that they would feel something when they were with Him. I'm sure they felt the Spirit in His presence, and I'll bet not one of them forgot the experience. Not what was said or anything like that, but how they felt with Him. They knew he was different.
That thought saved our conference weekend. The Lord knows my kids aren't perfect, but I know He wants them to experience conference. It is always on at our house. My wife and I try to sit and listen to each word, but we also deal with all the interruptions. Someone always needs a drink, or help going potty or a sandwich or whatever. We miss stuff that the speakers say because maybe the kids are being too loud, but it's on. The Spirit is there. The kids feel it. Whenever I feel like losing my patience I hear a voice in my head saying, "Suffer the little children to come unto me." We do have to suffer and give up our perfect conference experience, but we do to help our kids come unto Him, and could there be anything more impotent in the end?
You know what's funny? Sometimes I think my kids aren't paying attention at all to what's being said or who's speaking. I wonder if they get anything out of it. Go ahead, though, flash my kids a picture of the prophet. They do get all excited. When he comes on to speak for conference, they'll often drop whatever it is they are doing and stop to point and let us know who is speaking. Those moments are when I realize it is all worth it.
This weekend, i hope you'll take the time to sit with your kids if you have them, and enjoy conference. Don't worry about them all sitting perfectly and listening. They won't, so just let it go. They'll get more out of it than you know.
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