why Sundays are so stinking hard

Day Twenty: Handwriting.

I read these words this morning...
Or, rather,
My husband read these words
to me this morning.
What a good reminder
that there is nothing to be
ashamed about
in the gospel of Christ.
Why are people
offended by the power of God
for the salvation of everyone
who believes?

Yesterday was Sunday. Most people know Sundays as a day of rest, a day when Christians gather to hear the word of God and have fellowship with one another. The reality for Christian parents of young children is that Sundays are the hardest day of the week - anyone will say so. 

Yesterday was exceptionally so. Benjamin was snotty and grumpy because his sleep wasn't the greatest, which was only compounded by the putting off of his morning nap - a usual occurrence on Sunday mornings. Judah was also grumpy without explanation. He was taking for-ev-er to eat his breakfast, but I stuck to my guns and made him finish the orange he had been incessantly begging for. Meanie, I know. When he had begrudgingly finished the last few bites, I lifted him out of his high chair. It was then that I realized why he had been taking so long: it's hard to eat whilst pooping, you see. Instead of whisking him off to be changed, I wrote a witty little note that said "Smell me! xoxo" and commissioned Judah to take it to his daddy. 

What I didn't realize was that it wasn't a normal BM in his saggy diaper - it was a full-force, no mercy EXPLOSION. He dropped little bits like Hansel and Gretel all the way to our bedroom. Oh, Joey got the joke. And he also got a few unexpected surprises. I walked Judah back to the other end of the house to be changed, still not realizing that he was dropping bits all. the. way. there. I will spare you the grim details, but I will tell you that the best remedy we could think of was to plop him in the tub and hose him down. 

The rest of the morning was no better. Both boys screamed and cried and wailed and whined right up until the moment the minivan-in-motion closed their belligerent little eyelids. Sweet relief.

I'd like to tell you that as soon as we got to church, the Hallelujah chorus rang out and all of our problems dissipated. I'd like to, but it would be a lie. We made it through Sunday School unscathed, but when we sat down for the morning worship service, some problems presented themselves. Judah was not his normal self, choosing to cling tightly to his daddy's shoulders and rest his surprisingly red little cheeks in the crook of his neck. And then the coughing started. We tried and failed to encourage him to cover his mouth when he coughed, looking around apologetically at our pew neighbors. Our pew neighbors?! They were all elderly! And Judah and Benjamin were like little carrier monkeys of disease! I leaned over as inconspicuously as possible and whispered to Joey that perhaps we should consider taking our two little sicklings home, to which he quickly agreed.

The morning made us realize that our boys are not as recovered from their colds as we thought they were. I did not mention it, but Benjamin was also not doing well. His little eyes were rid-rimmed and he would frequently burst out in pitiful little loud, forceful wailing. Anyone who knows him knows that's not like him at all. It caused us to seriously reconsider how we have been pushing our children lately, being less firm about bed and nap times, and choosing to tote them around when they probably just need to enjoy a day of normalcy. 

I've often wondered why Sundays are so hard for us. Why does it seem like everything is conspiring against us to keep us from entering that place of rest and recuperation that Sundays are intended for? 

The truth: Satan would like nothing better than to sully your emotions, distort your perceptions, steal your thoughts, and cause you pain - especially on mornings when Christians have the opportunity to freely enter a building sanctified for the work of God and hear the word of God preached from the pulpit. I truly do believe that some of the biggest battles are fought on Sunday mornings. As Christians, we should not be intimidated by this. What we should be doing is going to battle with our hearts washed in the word of God, our minds occupied in communion with the Holy Spirit, and our souls covered in the blood of the Lamb. The  last thing we should do is roll over and submit to the forceful hand of the devil.