We tried yet another new church this morning, and it was great. Did you hear me say that? I know, can you believe it? It was great. We actually liked it. Every one of us.
The service we attended started at 11:15, one of their 4 services. We chose that particular service because it was the only one left in the day after we had frittered away our morning. David had found the place on the internet and it was one we hadn't tried in a 10 mile radius. He hadn't gotten specific directions, but knew it was on Whipp. We drive up and see this absolutely H*U*G*E building realize we have found it. It is SO BIG that we all, every single one of us, say something along the lines of holy crap this is the biggest church we'd ever seen. Crystal Cathedral, Montmartre, Notre Dame big.
We go inside and are continuing our rant on size, features, and all around amazingness when we see the submarine. Inside. Yes, I am serious. In their kid's section they had a submarine. Bubba exclaims, "Holy cuss word." He says the words "cuss" and "word." I am not bleeping anything out.
We walk into the sanctuary and it is packed. We end up walking up into a balcony, then making our way down to a side section near the stage to find a seat. Music is good. Not amazing rock band music, but good. Then, the organ, a massive beast taking up the entirety of the front of the sanctuary starts and every single one of us gets goose bumps. Awesome.
The people are friendly and nice, the pastor is funny and holds every person in our family's attention. David laughs at the stories and likes his research. Hannah takes notes and follows along. Bubba finds the countdown clock on the back wall of the sanctuary and watches the time tick away contentedly. I'm enjoying myself. All is well. Until we stand up for the final prayer.
We stand for the final song and sing. The song finishes and everyone bows their heads to pray to be dismissed and all of the sudden there is a CCCRRRRAAAAAAAACCCCCKKKK. David and I, and everyone else in the sanctuary for that matter, open our eyes and look over and Bubba is standing at the end of the row holding the molding of the pew in front of him in his hands, with a look of shock on his face.
He had apparently "fallen backwards" (since his eyes were closed) and caught himself by grabbing the molding of the pew in front of him, breaking the pew. Luckily it hadn't broken off, and he wasn't carrying it around for all 10 million parishioners to see.
As everyone filed out of the sanctuary I walked over to the information desk and very kindly told the nice woman at the desk that their pew was broken, by us, and that it should be fixed asap, before someone was hurt by the multiple protruding nails.
Hmmm are we going back to the Church of the Broken Pew next week?