Here it is Sunday Morning once again and let me tell you they are anything but easy here. Let me start by saying that my husband and I are both Christian’s. Whether you are or not you may still be able to relate to my Sunday mess.
Sunday’s I wake up after gripping onto the edge of the bed all night because my toddler, who I co-sleep with, has tried to push me into the floor all night. I get up and my back aches and I can barely hold my eyes open.
Sunday’s, all I want to do is rest. I have been on the go all week. Between going to work and picking up our daughter, going back and forth to the store and to the gas station and where ever I end up needing to go that week. I am tired and I just want to hang out on my couch while my husband watches football and my kid plays with her toys all over every inch of my living room floor. I don’t want to go any where, because I know what looms tomorrow and for the next six days.
So what about Church? This is what my problem is, my husband he wakes up and he always says, “Let’s go to church.” And I know in my heart I should get everyone into our Sunday bests, hair fixed and shoes shined. But this is my internal battle.
Every time we go, I feel as if I am being judged and I do not mean by the Lord. I feel like the whole congregation is looking at us. Judging us because we where not present last week, or because my hair is in a pony tail and I am barely wearing make up because I have had to chase a two year old up and down the hallway trying to get her clothes on. I am wearing flip flops because my other dress shoe decided to run away to some unknown land.
Maybe it is a part of my anxiety or because I am a woman and women judge all of the other women in the world. Or it could be because my husband grew up in this church and I did not.
I suppose what I am trying to get from telling you all this is Sunday’s are not easy for me. I fight myself trying to make a decision that shouldn’t be that hard to make. So if you are the praying kind, maybe whisper a prayer for me.