Turning "How Was Your Weekend?" into a Witnessing Opportunity: Lessons from My 7-Year-Old Daughter

As a dad of five and a missionary disciple, I've learned that the most profound lessons in faith often come from the simplest places—like a child's homework.  The other day, my 7-year-old daughter, who's in Year 1, came home with her writing practice book. It's a treasure trove of her progress over the past year: scribbled sentences, colorful drawings, and innocent stories that capture her world. Flipping through the pages, I paused at three that stopped me in my tracks. They weren't just kid's writing; they were pure, unfiltered witnessing to our family's faith life. In a world that often sidelines God from everyday talk, these pages reminded me how we can turn casual conversations—like "How was your weekend?"—into powerful opportunities to share the Gospel right where we are.

(Ours is an ordinary family—one with its share of struggles, dark nights, and brokenness. We're not perfect; far from it. Mornings can be chaotic, tempers flare, and like every home, we navigate doubts and daily battles. Yet, in the midst of that realness, faith anchors us.)

"I Went to Church" (17th March)

Dated 17th March, her entry simply states: "I went to church. I went to Sunday School. I went to St. Marys." Below it, a drawing of a church—basic lines, but full of her wonder. For us, Sundays at St. Mary's aren't always smooth; sometimes we're distracted, or wrestling with the week's weight. But to her, it's just "we went"—a family thing, a place of belonging.

This perspective humbles me when I face those casual Monday chats. Instead of glossing over our ordinary weekend with "It was okay," I might say: "We made it to St. Mary's for Mass and Sunday School—nothing fancy, but it grounded us after a tough week." It's honest, relatable. Jesus turned everyday life into parables—a shepherd's care, a farmer's seeds, fishermen's nets (cf. Jn 10:1-18; Mt 13:3-9; Lk 5:1-11)—showing God's work in the ordinary. Sunday, as Pope John Paul II described, is meant to be a "day of rest" where we "open wide the doors to Christ," even if our hearts are weary. In our brokenness, church isn't about perfection; it's a weekly mercy stop, renewing us through the Eucharist as the "source and summit" of Christian life. My daughter's words reveal how kids filter our efforts: They see the going, not the grumbling. Mission in the "now and here" starts there, sharing our real weekends as invitations to something bigger, without pretending we're saints.

Page 2: "On Sunday, I Went to Church" (12th May 2025 – Mother's Day)

On Mother's Day, 12th May 2025, she wrote: "On Sunday, I went to Church. After that we learned a Christian song and we did a prayer meeting." This followed Mass and our Holy Spirit Missionaries gathering, where we sang and prayed. Truth be told, our family gatherings aren't always harmonious—fatigue sets in, kids get restless—but she captures the joy that peeks through.

When someone asks "What's up for the weekend?", her view inspires a grounded response: "Heading to church, then maybe some songs and prayer with our group—it's our way of leaning on Jesus during busy times." Witnessing like this isn't about flawless performances; it's sharing the process. As St. Paul VI noted, people "listen more willingly to witnesses than to teachers," especially when those witnesses admit their humanity. Pope Francis echoes that proclamation brings "joy" because it's rooted in encountering Jesus, who meets us in our vulnerabilities. In our home, these moments—honoring my wife on Mother's Day through worship—build fragile but real communion. Families, even imperfect ones, are called to evangelize by "transmitting the faith" through daily solidarity. Through my daughter's eyes, it's the song and prayer she remembers, not our stumbles. That's the quiet power: Our broken efforts become her bridge to faith, inviting others to join the imperfect journey.

"On the Weekend I Went to Church, and My Dad Did Confession" (No Date)

Undated, but poignant: "On the weekend I went to church, and my dad did confession. Confession for me isn't a victory lap; it's often born from dark nights—regrets, failures I carry as a dad and husband. Yet, to her, it's woven into the weekend fabric, a step toward peace.

This teaches me vulnerability in conversations: "Our weekend included church and me hitting confession—helps me start fresh after messing up." No heroics, just truth. The Sacrament of Penance is key to the New Evangelization, offering a "personal encounter with Jesus Christ" where mercy heals our fractures. As Pope Benedict XVI taught, it's a "path" of renewal, where we receive grace to "proclaim the newness of the Gospel" despite our sins. It restores our baptismal dignity, urging ongoing conversion in family life. We're an ordinary crew, but modeling this shows kids grace in action. St. John Paul II saw families as "domestic churches," sharing the prophetic mission through "everyday realities" of fidelity amid trials. Her page highlights how children perceive our brokenness redeemed: Not the falls, but the rising. Sharing that invites others into mercy's reach, turning chit-chat into hope.

These pages from my daughter's book aren't about our family's highlights; they're her lens on our ordinary, battle-worn faith life. In a year of growth, they've shown me how kids tune into what we prioritize—church, prayer, confession—filtering out the chaos to see God's hand. The Synod calls us to a Church of "communion, participation, and mission," where proclamation touches everyday paths. Even in brokenness, we're sent to share the Gospel's joy, as Pope Francis urges: It's for "today," with apostolic zeal that meets people where they are.

So, next time the question comes, borrow from my 7-year-old: Mention the church visit, the song, the confession—not as perfection, but as lifelines in the mess. It normalizes faith for a world craving authenticity. If you're looking for opportunities to share your faith in the most ordinary days of your life in the most extraordinary ways, consider being part of the Holy Spirit Missionaries. We're a community of disciples who turn everyday moments—like weekend chats—into encounters with Christ, supporting one another through the battles. Young people especially, join us to live out this call; visit holyspiritmissionaries.org to learn more, attend the Awake Melbourne conference, or explore Ablaze Residential retreats. We're all in this together.