I want to be one of those holy rollers that feels some sort of divine connection when I attend a service. That I don't makes me feel guilty. In the last few years church has only made me feel... sleepy. I know terrible. But true. So rather than go and fight the urge to snooze I stay home. Sleep in. And preach to my husband about how we need to start going to church... next week. I want the kids to have some exposure to religion even if it is minimal. I want them to grow with some sort of faith even if they find it lacking as they get older.
In this season of peace of joy I always feel quite the opposite. Anxiety and unrest. The holidays are stressful and busy. The shopping and wrapping. Cooking and cleaning. There is never enough money or time to get everything done. By the time Christmas gets here I am spent... mentally, physically, and financially.
My Facebook news feed is filled with pictures of crying babies on Santa's lap and the latest antics of that creepy little Elf that does everything but sit on a shelf. And although I'd normally scroll right past the 900th over posed holiday photo they are a much welcomed break from this world blinded by hate and overwhelmed with sadness. Which leaves me questioning almost daily... Are you there.... God?
A believer that you don't need to go to church to find God I can not discount seemingly divine interventions that are pointing me to a place of worship. So when I randomly ran into a member of my former congregation who excitedly told me about the new church she was attending I took it as a sign. And maybe... just maybe I would get an answer to my question.
All week I was excited to attend this new church. Maybe it was her enthusiasm or just my longing to feel some peace... whatever the case I was patiently waiting for Sunday. Until Sunday came and it was dark. And dreary. And cold. I lay in my soft. Warm. Comfortable bed debating whether or not God could wait another week. And yes God could wait another week for me but could I wait another week for Him?
I laid in bed for another 45 minutes. Because procrastinating is what I do best and who doesn't love rushing around like a nut? Then I got up. Got dressed. Tamed my roosteresque hair. Threw a cute outfit on Ry and ran out the door while my husband cooked breakfast with the boys. We arrived at church with out a minute to spare. I pulled up parked the car and ran around the back to get the stroller out. I hit the trunk button and as the back flew open I reach in to grab the... when I heard a snap! and the back door came crashing down as I narrowly escaped being beheaded! I stood there for a second staring at the car wondering if I could have actually been decapitated and if I should just get back in the car and go home. I mean really God what kind of shit is this?! I could have still been in bed!
Okay no stroller since the trunk is out to kill me. I grab Ry and make the long walk to the front of the church... up too many stairs, and finally arrive at the door. Of course the service has already started. Sometimes I think I must subconsciously like to make a grand entrance as I am always the LAST one in. The very last. Extremely discombobulated person in the door. An attractive middle aged woman hands me a program and points me in the direction of an empty seat. Ry is wide eyed looking on in awe. There is a choir singing and beautiful bells being rung. Color is flooding in each painted window. Its breath taking and beautiful and instantly I feel... this is where I belong. What I have been longing for. The first song wraps up. The pastor begins to speak and the look of awe slowly leaves Ry's sweet face. With in a matter of minutes he is getting fidgety. Ornery. Whiney. LOUD.
Oh Jesus... don't let mine be the only crying baby. I put Ry down and he wobbles over to the little girl sitting at the other end of the pew. He reaches over and takes her toy with an incredibly smug look on his face and as she stretches her hand out to get it back he runs away! I take the toy from my fleeing little fugitive and he lets out a cry. No a shrill. A freakin ear piercing awful noise. He abruptly stops and quiets down. The pencil and envelope holder caught his eye. He looked right at me as if to say... I dare you to stop me I will scream like a banshee again. His tiny hands grasp for the pencils just out his reach. The other takes hold of a handful of envelopes. He inspects them momentarily and then tosses them like confetti. As I bend over to pick it all up he makes a mad dash for the alter. I stuff the envelopes back in their place and rush down the aisle to grab this 32 inch terror.
A song starts to play and Ry stands... still. Then he sways and claps with a smile from ear to ear. I think okay, I got this. That hymn gave me just enough time to regroup and get him settled. I would liken this few minutes to the calm before the storm. The organ struck its last chord and no sooner was my child once again wreaking havoc. I spent the next 45 minutes shushing, chasing, picking up, apologizing, attempting to distract... to no avail. Maybe God was there and I just couldn't focus long enough to find him. I put Ry's coat on and got my stuff together. As I was about to walk out the same woman that had handed me the program came over and said "you know that door right there is the children's room, right? Don't leave." She opened the door to a sound proof room. A speaker streaming the words of the pastor and toys all around. If I were not such a germaphobe this would have been the perfect solution. I took one look at the buckets of toys and thought what a great germ infested idea this is. My fear of the flu trumped my longing for peace. We left.
I stopped at Starbucks to ensure the morning was not a total waste. I enjoyed my peppermint latte as Ry drifted off to sleep in the back seat. I sat there in the quiet of my car. Peacefully sleeping babe in tow. Christmas Canon in D came on the radio and I found myself in silent prayer. A sense of calm came over me. Which totally confirmed what I had been longing to feel... God is everywhere. Even in the parking lot of Starbucks on route 17. And although I can find Him outside of church I may just go back next week... to get some exercise... as I chase Ry while he disrupts the service.
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