Does Sunday morning ever seem to bring out the sin in you, or is it just me? Getting the kids ready for church, actually attempting to do my own hair and makeup for once, and then going out in PUBLIC with my crew...
It is hard work, and I do not always go to church with a shining halo.
Last Sunday was no exception.
-----
What a morning. It was actually going
pretty well until that last few minutes before church. The fighting and the fighting, and then
suddenly the sharpie on the couch.
WHAT!? Sharpie on my SUEDE couch!!!
And my tongue loosed hellfire on them, on the big brother even more than the guilty 2yr old because he had the marker in the first place.
And then they leave for church and again (AGAIN!) they fight and I am ANGRY and I give
them the what- for. My lecture was loud and long and complete with immature statements like “You guys have SO many sins to
confess when you go to church today!”
I suddenly realize it’s Sunday morning, and quiet, and we are outside, and my
voice might be carrying and I am ashamed.
I am near tears, and yet the anger is
not gone nor are the constant irritations.
Church next, and there it gets worse.
Their wiggles make me want to smash them.
The sermon is on humility, and taking the last
seat instead of grabbing the first.
Great.
Pastor calls up the children and they gather around him for the children's sermon. I try to act like I think they are all so cute, and I listen.
And my God does work on my heart.
Again, I am shocked at myself.
For two reasons.
One – the rage is a symptom of my ridiculous
pride.
I shouldn't have to deal with this. I shouldn't have to help you guys
work out your problems all day long. I should be able to have a couch without
marker on it. I should be able to think without being interrupted by your
NEEDS.
Two- even my tearful worry about this is pride.
That one really hurt.
How do I know that even my burning tears were pride?
Because my tongue lashes out
like this daily, but only this day am I upset to the point of tears about it.
And suddenly I see: I am upset because I almost got caught. Because my rage came out in public, and I
may or may not have been overheard, and if I WAS overheard, then… what do they
think?
My reputation! Oh my poor reputation!
And so the tears.
Not the children.
Not the fact that my rage
wounds those that I “love,” but my reputation.
That’s what I really care about.
Exposed. Proud in anger, and proud even in
‘shame’ about that anger.
My heart, Lord.
You have SO much work to do on
this heart of mine.
Lord, have mercy.
And again, He does.
I apologize to the kids right there in
whispered words in the front pew, and they whisper grace back to me.
“I forgive you mommy. And I’m sorry, too. Here, I drew you a picture.”
His grace reconciles us sinners, and His grace
makes even someone like me lift my head.
I am found. I am forgiven, and I am loved.
Behold, the Lamb of God, who takes away the
sins of the world.