Sunday's exhaust me, but I know they shouldn't. I come home from church feeling more hurried and stressed than before. But hear me, this isn't a church issue, it's a "me" issue.
The day starts out alone because the hubs has to be at work at 6 a.m.. I'm left to get four kids, two cats and a dog fed and ready. If, like today, there is a kink in the routine, there's a kink in the day. What messed up the routine? A leaking fridge. I, praise the Lord, had not gone shopping so there was no food to spoil, but there was also nothing left to feed the kids. To Target we ran for breakfast bars and Kool-Aid. Who gets the healthy breakfast award? Not this mom.
Sunday School goes fantastic, but then in "big church" I'm playing referee. I think that's what exhausts me the most. I maybe heard three words out of the sermon. Church is where my kids need to be, so I bring them every week regardless of what I "get" out of it. After church, to Target we run AGAIN for lunch supplies and then home. It's after 1 p.m. now. I'm hungry, grumpy, and tired of hearing, "but he's singing MY SONG!!!!." Kids, songs belong to EVERYONE! Just saying. And to my brother and sister, I probably did the same thing to ya'll when we were younger. I'm sorry. Feel free to sing your heart out 'cause I will too.
After lunch and failed nap attempts, a blessing walks through the door. My husband, who's had a VERY long weekend, takes the baby, takes the big kids, brings them downstairs and lets me nap. Amen and Amen.
It's occurred to me that even though God mandated a day of rest (and I don't believe it has to be Sunday), it's not necessarily a physical rest. Running to church and back wearies my body and if I'm not careful, wearies my soul. That's where abiding in God's rest comes into play. I can calm my mind and soul regardless of my surroundings and offer worship to my Lord and Savior.
In that worship comes true rest.