Scene of the Crime:
Church. Sunny Sunday morning.
The kids had been heinous getting out of the house that morning. There were tears about the clothes I made them wear, foot stomping over the fact that I insisted they comb their hair, shrieks at the audacity I had shown in demanding they wear shoes. Outside. In January. In MINNESOTA. It was a rough enough morning that I sent the older 3 across the parking lot by themselves while I sobbed my eyes out in the bathroom while TJ safely played in his crib, unaware of my breakdown occurring in the next room.
I sobbed to God about how frustrated I was. How I couldn't understand how in the WORLD He thought this path of living in an apartment with 4 kids was a good idea. How sad I was that our world was off its axis and I didn't know what to do to make it better. AH! And HOW could I make it better when I couldn't even get my kids out of the house!?! I'm sure you've been there...when the first complaint leads to the next, to the next, to the next.... you get the idea.
I finally pulled it together as I realized I was going to be late for teaching Sunday School...yup. Sunday School. As I gathered TJ and started to walk over, I giggled crazily to myself...ME? Teach SUNDAY SCHOOL? Lead kids to Christ? When I was bawling my eyes to Him just minutes before? Awesome.
RUNDOWN OF THE INCIDENT:
I got through Sunday School teaching just fine. Somehow the same daughter who had spat that she "woved" Daddy more than me was an ANGEL in class...typical. And following classes I herded my brood into the sanctuary for worship. I sat in my chair exhausted and emptied. Then it happened.
The opening prayer.
"Let us be JOYFUL in the path you've given us."
You gotta be kidding.
Then the lessons. WHACK!
Then the sermon. SMACK!
Then the Prayers of the People. THUD!
Every stinkin' one about being joyful in whatever path God calls you too. During the prayers of the people we even asked God to give us an even GREATER desire to do His will! I gotta admit I barely choked it out.
I felt like I'd been slapped. Then kicked. Then whooped over the head with a 2x4.
I wanted to shout, "I GET IT ALREADY! NOW LET ME BE!!!"
Clearly, God knew that I wasn't getting it. So He kept sending me the message and has been working on me these last few weeks to actually MEAN it when I ask Him to make me joyful in His call. To TRUST that He equips those whom He calls...that He will not call us, then leave us. And I'm nearly there. Nearly...
Now, if He could just help me get the kids ready for church on Sunday morning....