As a pastor's wife, I spend Sunday mornings alone. Well, not alone exactly..alone with my 4 children (Michael is usually at the church by 6am). I get them breakfast, get them all dressed in their finest for church, and get them there pretty close to on time. But sometimes the condition of my heart once that all happens is, well...let's just say it's less than worshipful.
It's Sunday. It's the only opportunity I get to corporately worship with my church body - who are very dear. I look forward to it, and miss it so badly when one of the kids is sick. So why, on a day when everyone is healthy and all will be in attendance, do I struggle so much with my attitude?
Maybe it's because of all the rushing around I do on this particular day. On school days I only need to grab uniforms out of the closet, and Ethan and I take the big kids to school in our jammies. Just this past Sunday morning I was in the shower when Caroline knocked on the door.
"Mom!" she said.
"Yes!" I replied.
"I need you to fix my hair!"
"I will!"
"When?"
"When I get out of the shower, Caroline!"
"Do these socks look ok with what I'm wearing?"
"Well, I can't see you...again, I'm in the shower!"
(let me interject here and explain that I make it a rule to ALWAYS lock the bathroom door when I'm in there. Now, you may say "What if one of your children needs you?", or "We teach our children that we don't lock doors in our house!". To you I say congratulations...and get your own blog. You name the day and I will bring my sweet children to your house so you can take a shower (or do anything ELSE in the bathroom for that matter!!) with 4 others in the room with you. They open the curtain, they flush the toilet, they want to play with my make up (only the girls), they...ummm..."critique" me. Good times.)
This past Tuesday at our morning "circle" meeting, a questions was posed: How do you prepare yourself for worship?
My quick-wit answer was "get the kids dressed Saturday night". It got a bit of a laugh, but it wasn't really funny. There's nothing funny about showing up to worship in the same frame of mind as having just left Wal-mart on a Saturday (every time, I tell you...every time. And I hope that statement is in some way picturesque).
Michael prepares for Sunday all week. Now, he is a pastor, so that much can be assumed. But what I mean is that he prepares himself for worship. He takes pains to go to bed early, get up early, keep his mind uncluttered and not too busy on Saturday evenings. Not that he is immune from the distractions that inevitably come up, but he is purposeful about preparation.
What if I did that? What if I got up earlier, leaving plenty of time for the girls to have a couple costume changes, plenty of time for a decent breakfast, plenty of time to find them (girls) tights that fit, plenty of time to break up an argument over who gets to choose the bible story video next, plenty of time to..I don't know...maybe pray? I do have an enemy, and he wants me to have crummy Sunday mornings each and every week. He wants me to be distracted, discouraged and disgusted by the time I get to Sunday School. It's a battle! And you know what? I'll bet you have faced it, too.
Tomorrow is Sunday. I'm going to ask the Father to change me.
Bless ya!
1 comment:
Amy, your post is exactly what I go through every morning with three little ones on my own while my pastor husband is at the church early, too! I really needed to hear what you wrote. I am so weak on Sunday mornings (metally, spirituall, physically) that I sometimes just declare (in my head and, when really frustrated, out loud to my husband before he walks out the door), "I don't think we're gonna make it to church today - guess we'll have to wait and see where we are when the clock strikes 9:30". I am often angry that I have so many responsibilities on Sunday morning and envious of those who get to church early, have deep conversations while there, and only have their Bible in their hands. Many times I go without a shower - I'm so used to it that it's not weird anymore. Anyway, to keep my heart in check and in perspective, I remind myself that "it's not about me, but about Jesus". That's hard to tell myself sometimes because I'd like to tell Jesus a few things of how he could help me better - ha! It's then that I realize it's my own fault. I could set out the children's clothes the night before, get to bed earlier (I'm still nursing a baby, though), actual spend some quality time with the Father, and possibly even take a shower Saturday night (I'd still have to find some time Sun. morning to tame my wild hair after sleeping on it wet). Simply put, thanks for reminding me of the gospel and pointing me to Christ. Love ya.
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