Just got home from church and cleaned the house a little with Sam. Ella and Samy Baby are sleeping. Gotta take advantage of their nap times whenever I can.
So as I sit in front of my compute and listen to uplifting Christian music, I reflect on my morning. I was very frustrated with myself earlier.
Sam and I usually go to Mass at our home church at 11 am. We love the priest there; Fr. Santiago is so reverent and gives amazing homilies packed with Scripture and a good joke or two. The only problem is that there is no nursery there and there isn't even a cry room. Combine the lack of child-friendly areas with the fact that Ella's nap time is around 12, while we're still in church, and you get a fussy toddler who does not want to sit still, regardless of snacks or quiet distractions such as books, etc. I say this not implying at all that our priest is perturbed by little kids in church; he's actually very family oriented and encourages us to bring her, despite her interruptions to his homilies. Ella is a wonderful little girl. She is well mannered (she already signs please and thank you), very sweet (always giving kisses and hugs), and well tempered. However, she is a toddler, and when she is tired the crankiness comes spilling out.
Well because of this, Sam and I have decided to have someone babysit her while we are at church if we go to this church, or go to another Catholic church at 11:30 where a nursery is provided and there is a cry room. The plan was for the latter this morning. We both woke up around 8:30, with plenty of time to get ready. Somehow though, no matter what time we wake up or start getting ready for church, we are always late. Not late by much, never more than 10 minutes, but late nevertheless. And I know I've written before about how much it peeves me to be late for anything, it absolutely drives me crazy to be late for church! I just can't stand rushing to get everyone loaded in the car, speeding to church, walking in late, missing part of the Mass, and then after finally sitting down, having to unruffle my feathers to open myself up to the Scripture readings. And let me add, that it usually takes a long time to do this. Being frustrated with myself in church certainly does not make me feel like I'm in a state of Grace to receive Holy Communion either. :sigh:
Well, all of that happened this morning :( Put all of that last paragraph together with the fact that I started getting the babies ready way early, ironed Sam's clothes and my dress while he did his workout for the day, and when I finally had to start getting myself ready, I asked Sam what time it was... it was 11:10- the time we should be out the door to have enough time to take Ella to the nursery. So the dress I'd gotten ready didn't work out as planned and I had to make a last minute outfit change. I ended up going to church looking horrible- didn't wear anything pretty, my hair was a frizzy mess and I didn't even bother to put make up on on the way there because I cried the whole way because I was so frustrated with everything. Uggh. Not a good way to got to church.
Or maybe it is. While in Mass, I didn't sing like I always do or say almost any of the participatory responses because I felt like if I said anything or let my emotions open up anymore, I'd be a free flowing river of tears. Instead, I spoke to my God from within and felt Him calm me down, telling me not to worry about such small things. I'm not a woman to compare myself to others, ever, but standing behind the glass of the cry room (we didn't have time to take Ella to the nursery), I couldn't help see my mess-of-a-self reflection next to the two beautiful women standing in the row in front of us, both wearing super cute outfits with perfect makeup and perfect hair. :sigh: I wanted to cry more.
But instead, I felt my God tell me that it's not about what I'm wearing or how my crazy hair is. What matters is that my family showed up to spend time with Him. Worship Him. Give glory to Him. And I even felt Him tell my troubled and beyond frustrated and sad heart that it mattered more to Him that I tried to look nice for Him (I was going to wear a pretty dress and curl my hair, but alas, had no time to get me ready). That regardless of how sad looking, and by that I mean pathetic looking, I showed up to church, He knew that I desired to look pretty for Him.
I know that this all may sound dorky and trivial, but it's not to me.
I honestly believe that Christ becomes present in the Eucharist. And how little is to spend one hour a week with Jesus in worship? :sigh: Not much. So it's important to me to at least show up on time and make an earnest effort to wear my "Sunday best". If I can be on time everywhere else and dress up for a job interview or date with my husband, then what reason do I have or lack of desire, for that matter, to dress up for a date with God?
Just some Sunday afternoon thoughts...
I feel much better, now that I've got all that off my chest.
Well because of this, Sam and I have decided to have someone babysit her while we are at church if we go to this church, or go to another Catholic church at 11:30 where a nursery is provided and there is a cry room. The plan was for the latter this morning. We both woke up around 8:30, with plenty of time to get ready. Somehow though, no matter what time we wake up or start getting ready for church, we are always late. Not late by much, never more than 10 minutes, but late nevertheless. And I know I've written before about how much it peeves me to be late for anything, it absolutely drives me crazy to be late for church! I just can't stand rushing to get everyone loaded in the car, speeding to church, walking in late, missing part of the Mass, and then after finally sitting down, having to unruffle my feathers to open myself up to the Scripture readings. And let me add, that it usually takes a long time to do this. Being frustrated with myself in church certainly does not make me feel like I'm in a state of Grace to receive Holy Communion either. :sigh:
Well, all of that happened this morning :( Put all of that last paragraph together with the fact that I started getting the babies ready way early, ironed Sam's clothes and my dress while he did his workout for the day, and when I finally had to start getting myself ready, I asked Sam what time it was... it was 11:10- the time we should be out the door to have enough time to take Ella to the nursery. So the dress I'd gotten ready didn't work out as planned and I had to make a last minute outfit change. I ended up going to church looking horrible- didn't wear anything pretty, my hair was a frizzy mess and I didn't even bother to put make up on on the way there because I cried the whole way because I was so frustrated with everything. Uggh. Not a good way to got to church.
Or maybe it is. While in Mass, I didn't sing like I always do or say almost any of the participatory responses because I felt like if I said anything or let my emotions open up anymore, I'd be a free flowing river of tears. Instead, I spoke to my God from within and felt Him calm me down, telling me not to worry about such small things. I'm not a woman to compare myself to others, ever, but standing behind the glass of the cry room (we didn't have time to take Ella to the nursery), I couldn't help see my mess-of-a-self reflection next to the two beautiful women standing in the row in front of us, both wearing super cute outfits with perfect makeup and perfect hair. :sigh: I wanted to cry more.
But instead, I felt my God tell me that it's not about what I'm wearing or how my crazy hair is. What matters is that my family showed up to spend time with Him. Worship Him. Give glory to Him. And I even felt Him tell my troubled and beyond frustrated and sad heart that it mattered more to Him that I tried to look nice for Him (I was going to wear a pretty dress and curl my hair, but alas, had no time to get me ready). That regardless of how sad looking, and by that I mean pathetic looking, I showed up to church, He knew that I desired to look pretty for Him.
I know that this all may sound dorky and trivial, but it's not to me.
I honestly believe that Christ becomes present in the Eucharist. And how little is to spend one hour a week with Jesus in worship? :sigh: Not much. So it's important to me to at least show up on time and make an earnest effort to wear my "Sunday best". If I can be on time everywhere else and dress up for a job interview or date with my husband, then what reason do I have or lack of desire, for that matter, to dress up for a date with God?
Just some Sunday afternoon thoughts...
I feel much better, now that I've got all that off my chest.
Here's another song by Francesca I like. Kind of describes the first part of today...
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