Sundays

Hands down, Sunday morning is one of the most exasperating times of our week.  You'd think that getting ready for church would be just as joyful as being there, singing His praises and visiting with the church family.

And if it's like this in your house, I am truly thankful that your mornings are smoother than ours.  I hope that  you never experience the types of crazy that we have every.single.Sunday.morning here in our home.

We can have plenty of time to get ready or be in a time crunch, it doesn't matter: The part between waking and walking through the doors of the church is always the same.

G.R.O.W.L.Y.

And generally not in small ways.  There are tears and yells and looks of disbelief and mad scrambles.

We pack our church bags the night before, I know what everyone will wear, and breakfast is made well in advance.

Yet, inevitably, by the time we get in the car to go, I feel like a giant hypocrite for pasting on my smiley 'church face' knowing that I was threatening my children with their very freedoms just minutes before.  I spend a moment or two pleading for peace so that people might not realize just how dysfunctional our morning has been.

But you want to know what?  It's okay.  It's okay because we don't give in.  We don't stay home just because of the ugly.  We push through and we get everyone to church and breath in the holy of the gathering of His people.

Just like that, by His strength, we have pressed back the Enemy again.  Satan may have thrown his nasty curve ball, but Jesus batted it right out of the ball park and we all ran home, grateful for a time of celebrating the day and being thankful for all that He has done for us, all the He is doing for us, and all that He has promised to do for us.