Isn’t This Supposed to be a Day of Rest?

If this is true, why do I never feel rested?

hh-blueHers & His started as an assignment with a small town newspaper. Cindy and I were given a subject to write about each week. We both wrote out thoughts on that particular subject and could only read the other’s contribution after they were published.  We enjoyed it so much that we kept doing it even after that little newspaper closed their doors.

This week’s subject: SABBATH MORNING

Day of Rest? (Hers)

They say that the sabbath is a day of rest. If this is true, then why, I wonder, do I never feel rested on Sunday? As the early morning alarm sounds, I wonder why my husband said he liked early morning church. I hit the snooze twice as I try to convince myself that I must get the gang going.


I wake everyone up, then head to the fridge to see the options for breakfast. I give a sigh as I see the notice: a primary talk reminder for our 6 year old. I recall the reminder text I had also received the day before. I had promptly forgotten minutes later with the next rush of life that came along. Topic: “Families are a Central Part of God’s Plan”.


“Quick, everyone awake!” I call to the silent house.


As I try to conceal a major case of bed head with a clever up-do, I quiz my 6 year old about why the family is important. Some good thoughts came of it, but I quickly realize our last minute planning is going to need some coaching. I make a mental note to pick up a picture from the library before I take her to primary.


We can’t find the missing shoe, but find a lost pair of sandals that will work just as well. I remind my son to get a belt and do his hair. The turkey tail probably won’t be appropriate for Sunday services.


Almost ready, I grab a few diapers, wet wipes, and a hand full of legos to keep the 4 year old occupied. I try to convince myself that if he can sit for an hour at home playing with them, they can work at church just as well. I know it’s a long stretch, but in desperation decide to try anyway.


“Time to go!“ I yell. I grab the 18-month-old only to realize she’s found someone’s breakfast and has helped herself to another round.


“Anyone know where my glasses are?” I hear my husband yell.


My daughter and I run to the bathroom to change the baby. By now the mess includes a full diaper as well.


We walk in just as the meeting begins. I grab a wet wipe to clean a spot of banana from my skirt, straighten the preschooler’s collar, and try to wet down his turkey tail. I sit back and let the hum of other children wrestling in their seats behind us give me some comfort that we’re not alone.


I watch my son as he goes to the front to participate in the service. This time, I don’t see his un-ironed shirt, his missing belt, or scraggly hair. I’m so proud of who he’s become. I blink quickly to catch the tears before they fall. Perhaps our family’s doing ok after all. Perhaps amid the chaos of daily life something is going right. I wonder if perhaps this is why a loving Heavenly Father made families a central part of His plan.


Welcome, Welcome Crazy Morning (His)

7:16 am – Someone is screaming. It sounds like there’s a cereal shortage of some kind in the kitchen. Knowing my raisin bran is hidden and safe from the kids, I roll over and close my eyes for a few more minutes.


7:45 am – The screaming voice from before is now a chorus of cereal-deprived children. Buried in the screaming choir is another voice calling for someone to get out of the shower. It seems silly to get out of bed when I already know there’s a line waiting for what’s left of the hot water. This seems a good enough reason to roll over and go back to sleep.


8:21 am – Something cold hits me! I jump up and see my toddler pouring grapes into my bed. It’s likely that my wife gave her the idea (speaking from past experience), which means no more rolling over for me. I scoop up the grapes, pop a few into my mouth and get up. There’s nobody in the shower, which means there may be a chance at some hot water! Hot water or not, I don’t want to get in the middle of the missing shoe crisis happening in the boys’ room. I jump in the shower.


8:23 am – The only shampoo left in the shower is the pink stuff that was on sale for 50 cents. I convince myself that nobody at church is going to smell my hair and I grab it. It’s strawberries & cream and it’s moisturizing! A thought about choosy beggars pops into my head as I start lathering up.


8:34 am – Other than smelling like a cheap version of Strawberry Shortcake, I’m feeling very awake. As a bonus, my hair is super moisturized! I point this out when my wife pokes her head in to make sure her toddler-grape tactic worked. She’s not impressed.


8:44 am – I’ve got my suit on, my hair and teeth are brushed, and as soon as I find the perfect tie I can go to my raisin bran hiding place. Which tie will tell everyone at church who doesn’t care and won’t notice that I’ve put a lot of thought into this? I grab the closest one and head into the kitchen.


8:49 am – I’ve recovered the raisin bran from my secret cereal stash. Judging from the lack of raisin bran in the box, it’s time to find a new spot. Luckily, there’s enough for one more bowl. My wife is calling for everyone to get to the van, which means I’ve got five minutes. I pour the raisin delicacy and milk into my bowl as my wife comes in and asks if I remember I’m teaching today.


8:53 am – I’m frantically trying to find and print off my lesson. The flashing red error light on the printer tells me I should’ve started this last night. I quickly scan the lesson and scribble some notes while the family files out to the van. I rush out to join them.


9:03 am – We arrive just in time to hear the opening hymn start. As we head to the latecomer seats in the back, I realize I left the notes for my lesson at home, right next to my uneaten bowl of raisin bran. Oi.


Sometimes this day of rest makes me want to pull out my very moisturized hair.


Written by Bryun Lemon

Bryun believes in having fun. Whether it's a date with his sweetheart, a trip to the grocery store, a walk up the road or a post about one of his eight crazy kids, this crazy dad likes to have fun.

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