Sunday Mornings

My heart should be ready to worship God on Sunday mornings. But, for some reason, my Sunday mornings are filled with feeding, dressing, and rushing the kids out the door, while grabbing my Bible and journal, packing a lunch for the kids to eat on the way home, writing a check for the offering, packing extra pants for Caleb in case he has an accident and quickly eating some breakfast. I usually remember to get fully dressed and brush my teeth, too.

Nick gets up, takes a shower, gets dressed and leaves.

Hmm.

Yesterday was another one of those days, but with the added bonus of Nick staying in bed because he was sick. Keeping to my chaotic schedule plus the kids taking extra time to keep checking on their dad led me to slowly lose my mind.

Is it wrong to be upset with my dear children when I have to repeat myself over and over and over again to get ready? Both of them can feed themselves, get dressed and brush their teeth without assistance. However, there is something about Sunday mornings that makes them forget how to function like humans.

By the time we got in the car, they knew I was steaming. Seriously-little puffs of smoke were coming out of my ears. Okay, so maybe it was the cool air blowing by, but I choose to believe it was my anger exploding out of my body.

I have to hand it to them-they know when to sit still and be quiet when I have reached the boiling point. After I finished counting in my head (I got pretty high) I let myself speak. We eventually had a talk about what it means to love others. They are both really good about saying, "I love you" quite often, so I explained that when you love someone, you should show it.

We talked about ways to show it, the biggest example was obeying me when I ask them to do something. I just do not understand it-I take care of them 100% and they have yet to appreciate it. Why can't they just listen to me as a sign of respect and love? Oh wait-they are five and three years old. I guess I have to wait until they are parents to earn that kind of attitude.

As my heart began to soften on my drive to church, I was once again reminded of my Father's love and how I continually take advantage of it. My love for my children does not even come close to God's love for me, yet I forget about Him, I often do not listen to Him or obey, and my appreciation is very little.

My prayer is for patience for my own children considering how much patience the Creator of the universe bestows upon me.