I grew up in a religious home. As a kid, I hated the ritual; every day at 6pm sharp, we (my siblings and I) had to drop everything we were doing to join our parents in prayer, my father presiding of course.
It was inconvenient, very inconvenient to us kids. You see, I love playing soccer; I was very good at it. Besides, that was the only sport I played. Prayer time came at the most inconvenient time, especially during the summer when the days are longer. However, we had no choice. No matter where we were, we had to hurry to get home before our parents noticed we weren’t nearby; we all had to gather in the prayer room to pray. I prayed hard for the ritual to end quickly; God never answered my prayer. It ought to last 30 minutes; it had always lasted 30 minutes.