Fell to My Knees Of Thanks That The Service Was Over.
Come on we are going to be late....really?
Every Sunday morning after 8:30 a.m. my family is awake and dressed in their nice clothes. Bryan and I read the newspaper while the kids play in the main room. At precisely 9:00 a.m. a silent alarm blares in my husband's ears that sends him into a panic. Bryan scurries himself and the kids to the car because church starts promptly at 9:30 a.m. Since the alarm never reached my ears, I take time to slowly moseying to the car. The ultimate goal is to have my seat belt fasten by 9:15 a.m. for the very short ride to church. You can image the look on panic and frustration on Bryan's face at 9:10 a.m. Needless to say, I do not believe in rushed Sunday mornings. We always arrived before the music starts and we never greet the priest right before his first step down the aisle. The joke is our car arrived before the preist and the bus from the senior center.
This past Sunday started out the same. Bryan wore the look of panic, the kids were strapped into their seats and I clicked the seatbelt around 9:15 a.m. After we arrived, we settled into our pew and waited 10 lonely minutes for the service to start. After a few moments, Wild Regan reached over for a kiss but head butted the bridge of my nose. The love tap forced an extra round of prayer on my knees until the stars cleared. She is a wonderful child that can really pack a head punch. Ouch.
After the first biblical reading wrapped up, the same lovely child decided it was time for a better view. Unbeknownst to me, she reached down to release the kneeler that slammed into my right shin. Again the stars shined and this time there was an audible gasp behind us. I reminded Wild Regan that she needed to look before she dropped the kneeler. Lovingly, she kissed my sore nose and said sorry. Whoever said motherhood was for the weak never spent this Sunday morning with Wild Regan.
After the second biblical reading, Revin Roger was bored. He already flipped through the hyme book, pretended to sing like an opera star and spied on the nearby toddlers. Finally, he decided a different seat was the solution to survive this week's homily. He squirmed out of his father's arms and into my lap. Since Amazing Ann was seated next to me, they decided to discuss the ceiling tile count. Past experience has shown he throws his head back into the forward pew. To prevent this and save his brain for future enlightenment I placed my hand down before he injured himself. At the very last moment, Revin Roger threw his head forward and landed squarely on my chin. Again, the back pew gasped in sorrow. This week's church service turned into a testament of patience.
As we prepared to stand up for communion, Revin Roger asked loudly if church was FINALLY over. I cringed in horror and said to wait a little bit longer. Silently inside I thought this was a very long service. Finally, the preist said the closing blessing and proceeded to lead the congregation outside. I fell to my knees in prayer of thanksgiving. Not because the weekly service was over. Instead that the unplanned physical pain my children caused was over.
Who wants to join us next Sunday for our next performance? Seating is limited to the last row and starts around 9:20 a.m. If you sit next to us, I can not guarantee your physical safety.
Do you have a story where you fell to your knees in thanks after church ended?
This week's Spin Cycle is all about Fall. Join the ladies tell/read all about their fall stories.
Sharon, The Mayor
Every Sunday morning after 8:30 a.m. my family is awake and dressed in their nice clothes. Bryan and I read the newspaper while the kids play in the main room. At precisely 9:00 a.m. a silent alarm blares in my husband's ears that sends him into a panic. Bryan scurries himself and the kids to the car because church starts promptly at 9:30 a.m. Since the alarm never reached my ears, I take time to slowly moseying to the car. The ultimate goal is to have my seat belt fasten by 9:15 a.m. for the very short ride to church. You can image the look on panic and frustration on Bryan's face at 9:10 a.m. Needless to say, I do not believe in rushed Sunday mornings. We always arrived before the music starts and we never greet the priest right before his first step down the aisle. The joke is our car arrived before the preist and the bus from the senior center.
This past Sunday started out the same. Bryan wore the look of panic, the kids were strapped into their seats and I clicked the seatbelt around 9:15 a.m. After we arrived, we settled into our pew and waited 10 lonely minutes for the service to start. After a few moments, Wild Regan reached over for a kiss but head butted the bridge of my nose. The love tap forced an extra round of prayer on my knees until the stars cleared. She is a wonderful child that can really pack a head punch. Ouch.
After the first biblical reading wrapped up, the same lovely child decided it was time for a better view. Unbeknownst to me, she reached down to release the kneeler that slammed into my right shin. Again the stars shined and this time there was an audible gasp behind us. I reminded Wild Regan that she needed to look before she dropped the kneeler. Lovingly, she kissed my sore nose and said sorry. Whoever said motherhood was for the weak never spent this Sunday morning with Wild Regan.
After the second biblical reading, Revin Roger was bored. He already flipped through the hyme book, pretended to sing like an opera star and spied on the nearby toddlers. Finally, he decided a different seat was the solution to survive this week's homily. He squirmed out of his father's arms and into my lap. Since Amazing Ann was seated next to me, they decided to discuss the ceiling tile count. Past experience has shown he throws his head back into the forward pew. To prevent this and save his brain for future enlightenment I placed my hand down before he injured himself. At the very last moment, Revin Roger threw his head forward and landed squarely on my chin. Again, the back pew gasped in sorrow. This week's church service turned into a testament of patience.
As we prepared to stand up for communion, Revin Roger asked loudly if church was FINALLY over. I cringed in horror and said to wait a little bit longer. Silently inside I thought this was a very long service. Finally, the preist said the closing blessing and proceeded to lead the congregation outside. I fell to my knees in prayer of thanksgiving. Not because the weekly service was over. Instead that the unplanned physical pain my children caused was over.
Who wants to join us next Sunday for our next performance? Seating is limited to the last row and starts around 9:20 a.m. If you sit next to us, I can not guarantee your physical safety.
Do you have a story where you fell to your knees in thanks after church ended?
This week's Spin Cycle is all about Fall. Join the ladies tell/read all about their fall stories.
Sharon, The Mayor
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