Lionel Richie is a liar. There is absolutely nothing easy about Sunday mornings in our house. This morning for example, the hubster finally rolled into bed sometime after 1am after working on his sermon all evening. We both slept badly, toddler woke us up about 5am as she’d lost her dummy. Eventually we all dropped off again. Hubster back in office at 7am. Toddler having meltdowns over minor issues. Mummy unsuccessfully trying to de-escalate meltdowns whilst feeling like a sumo wrestler is sitting on my head (awful sinusitis). Toddler dressed, hubster back in from office to let mummy get dressed before he leaves early to set church up. Hubster sets off, breakfast made, breakfast eaten, time for Toddler and mummy to leave for church. Wait, no, hang on…toddler filled nappy. Why always just as we’re about to go somewhere? Nappy changed, now time to go.
We get to church. Help finish setting up whilst keeping half an eye on toddler who fancies herself as a bit of an escape artist. Service starts, and relax. Wait, no toddler scraping chairs along floor and it doesn’t complement the beautiful worship one bit. Toddler goes out to the pre-school play area with her buddies. Good friend offers to watch her for me. Praise God, I might actually (for the first time since Ste became pastor) get to hear an actual sermon. Thank God for said friend, sit back down with a big smile on my face and hubster starts the preach.
First sentence of preach completed, I’m still smiling, this is going to be good. Second sentence started then “WAAAAAAAAAAAA”, toddler bursts in, tears streaming. I grab bag, and toddler trying not to distract hubster, and the rest of the congregation, too much. Toddler cheers up once back in play area, mummy on the other hand sits down, tears up and begins own internal pity party. “This is not fair. I’m ill. I’m tired. Why is Phoebe so whiney today? I just want one, just one, Sunday to actually hear my husband preach. I should’ve stayed at home. What is the point of me being here? What have I done to deserve this?” Yes, ‘drama queen’ is in fact my middle name. Right, enough. Give myself a proverbial slap. “This is not about you Hannah. Get a grip.”
Grip got. End of service. Breakdown of equipment starts. Try to have a chat with as many of the congregation as I can get round, whilst making sure toddler doesn’t escape onto car park. Bundle over tired, still whiney toddler into car. Sing and talk to her all the way home as I know if she falls asleep in the car there’s no way I can transfer to her cot without waking her. Home. Successfully get toddler in cot, and she’s asleep within seconds. Sit down in heap on the couch. Hubster arrives home. No energy to make lunch. Super noodles it is. Yum*. Finally sit down. Phew. And, relax.
Would I change it? Yes, of course I would. I would love to have a lazy family morning together, enjoying breakfast, reading together and rolling in to church at five past 11, to worship undistracted and be spiritually fed, who wouldn’t? But, that’s not the question I should be asking. The real crux of it is this: Was it worth it? Yes, yes and YES. This is why. I know that Ste and I are doing what God has called us to do. We are in His will and subsequently Full Life Church is in His will. He never said it would be easy, but then most things that are worth doing aren’t easy. In this season in our lives we have been called to serve. That means being uncomfortable, that means being stretched, that means compromising, but it also means blessings. God blessing us for being obedient, but more importantly, us blessing God by doing what He has asked of us. So, to God be the glory.