Some Sundays..

Yesterday was Sunday, and sometimes I don’t like Sundays. I don’t like what Sundays require, I don’t like what they imply. Yesterday I was getting ready for my Sunday and part of that process for yesterday was writing in my journal..

“I don’t want to do today”

we had church in the morning and plans with friends for the afternoon and I didn’t want to do any of it

“Lord, help me have a good day”

I used to love Sundays, they were my favourite day of the week. When I was a kid I didn’t think much about Sundays. When I was a teenager I did not like Sundays. And then In my early adulthood I liked Sundays again, and now.. some Sundays.. I just don’t want to do. 

I haven’t fully pegged, why this is. I can’t decide if it’s because I’m a tired mama of three boys, or if it’s because I’m a homesick lower mainland girl, or if it’s ministry burnout or if it’s because being married to the pastor means I have to be there. I don’t get a choice in the matter. Or maybe it’s all those things.

Sometimes I want to just hide under the covers. I get to church and visit with all the lovely, dear people and I sit down waiting for the service to start and I’m already giving the boys “the eye” and I sigh a deep sigh and try not to cry and say a little prayer to check my attitude but sometimes the spirit of “meh” holds on with wolverine claws. And if it’s Sunday where only 20 people come, it can feel defeating, even thought you know Jesus died as much for the whole world as he did for one person.

I think there is a strange psychology between the “have to” and the “hold to”. When I am told I have to do something, it is often the last thing I want to do. But if I decided that there is something I want to “hold to” then, very little gets in the way of me holding to it.

It has been many years since I have “held to” church. I know that comes from wounds still healing. I am continuing to work out those things. It hasn’t made the impact through my week like it used to, and it has become one more thing to trudge through as I struggle parenting the boys behaviour. 

But then, there are some Sundays where I am happy to go, happy to see everyone, looking forward to singing the songs, watching the boys participate, discovering what God has laid on Brad’s heart for the church. I walk through the doors that Iain makes a point of holding open for me every Sunday. I give him a kiss and thank him for waiting for me. I say good morning to everyone, I breathe a sigh of peace that the boys feel welcome. I feel chuffed as I watch Brad schmooze with the people and lead pastor this church, and say a prayer for him as he takes care of that last detail. 

Some Sundays start out “meh” and end with an “amen” because God does amazing things if we let him. And that was my yesterday. Church was hard, but it got better and the afternoon was wonderful. Lunch with friends and sledding on a local hill. Smiles all around and a visit to hold to the heart for when the lonely winds blow. 

“Lord, help me have a good day” 

..and he did.

Some Sundays I wish weren’t

and some Sundays I’m glad are

and I’m praying for more “hold to” and to let go of the rest of the “have to”