punched in the face

Maybe it isn't the best way to explain it to the kids, but I told them that when we attended the Paschal Matins and Divine Liturgy last night, it was like we punched the devil in the face. He was whispering to me for the hour or so before I had to wake the kids up, that it would be better for everyone if I let them sleep; he made my eyes droop with fatigue; and when I woke the kids up, and M started crying (he who was most excited to be going to church in the middle of the night), the devil told me how much easier it would be not to bother going at all. But we loaded four kids, four pillows, four comforters and four Paschal baskets (!) into the van, and off we went. The stars were very bright in the black sky when we tumbled out of van at the church. And after the procession, as everyone started joyfully singing "Christ is risen" over and over again, and as we got into the wonderful songs of the Paschal Matins, I thought to myself, "Ha (punch, punch) - this is the one thing needful, and I wouldn't trade any of us being here for anything."