No one is more shocked than I am that I went to church today.
Matthew is still out of town, both my kids have coughs and runny noses, and it’s Daylights Savings. You can double check my math here but normally that equation comes out to, um, staying home.
Yesterday morning, I definitely wasn’t coming. And then throughout the day my position started softening. So last night I set my alarm, just so I would have the option. I got up after a couple snoozes and did my makeup, just so I would have the option. I set out an outfit before I went upstairs to get Jack, just in case. And then each little step kept taking care of itself until I was, once again, setting up our camera’s self-timer and shepherding Ella into her spot in front of the fireplace. I didn’t really think I was going to church until I sat down in the last row of our chapel.
But church didn’t go so smoothly this time. Ella wanted to get up every couple minutes to get water from the water fountain, totally drenching her shirt each time. The little handfuls of cereal weren’t enough to keep Jack quiet this time. And the pressure got to me more this time, I had less patience and more anxiety. I felt less empowered. But this week, we had a lesson that I absolutely needed to hear. And it was worth the cost of Ella’s relentless requests, Jack’s unconquerable fussiness, and that precious hour we lost last night.
Things can be hard and worth it. Things can bring out the worst in us and be worth it. And now I know that I’ll take the worst for a Sunday Best.
Happy Sunday, everybody.