There it is. The land mark that says you have almost made it. The sigh of relief slowly eases out of your nostrils as you look down to your phone to check the time (because I know you no longer wear a watch because who has the time to go into a store and buy a battery and wait for it to be put in… at a glass counter… really, do these people not know that glass speaks to little hands… beckoning them to see how it tastes and how many slobbery sucker sticky fingerprints they can slide across it).
You run-walk in the door no longer making eye contact with your husband because the last time he said what’s taking so long, are you not ready yet, was your breaking point… or he is on shift today and you have been on your own and so far you have settled three fights, picked out six different outfits that your child says just don’t feel right, and you are beyond frustrated at them and finally say, fine just wear your pajamas, I really don’t care at this point! Yet, the reality is you are frustrated because you know exactly how they feel because every outfit you own is already in the closet floor or on the bed… because nothing fits right today and you secretly wish today really was pajama day so you could just wear yours.
Now the heap of guilt is washing over you… because you promised yourself last Sunday that you would be better prepared next week… you would not be late… you would not leave crazy and angry… you would all have breakfast and prayer and would walk out the door smiling and singing Jesus Loves Me and loving each other and peace like a river would fill your car and heart all the way to church…
But it didn’t happen.
Now you are thinking all the way there that your kids will never attend church after you quit dragging them there because you have made Sunday morning such a miserable experience. I mean really the only time you ever yell at them is on Sunday morning… right?
You finally make it in the building and you can feel the stares of the greeters boring down into your soul and then their is the children’s minister and heat embarrassment rises up in your neck and you try not to make eye contact because you just know that behind those stares must be the words, yep there they are again… they are ALWAYS late… I bet they make it to school on time, I bet they manage to make it to work on time… I bet they are not even ever late for a sports practice…
Well, stop and know that I AM NOT THAT CHILDREN’S MINISTER… and I would most likely bet that your children’s minister is not either 🙂
This Children’s Ministry Director understands. I know that if it can go wrong, it will go wrong on Sunday morning. If it can spill, rip, tear, scream, fall, drop, break, get lost, not start, be forgot… it will happen on Sunday morning.
The fact is Satan could care less if you make it to work on time. He could care less if your kids make it to school or ball practice on time. He has no qualms with keeping you from those activities… he usually is there in the background encouraging them… because the more time you are spending there the less time you are spending at church and in the Word…
But now Sunday morning… that’s a different story. He doesn’t want you there and sure as hell (yes, I said it) doesn’t want your kids there.
He will even use your kids as your excuse to not be there.
Here’s the deal with this Children’s Ministry Director. If your late… I understand. I am just glad you made it. Because I know what the shoes in your hand and the ponytail or bun on top of your head means. I know what the cereal in a bag with the sippy cup in hand means. I know what the jeans and t-shirts and extra body spray means. I know what the diaper bag without the diapers means. I know what the tear stained, sleepy in the eyes, unbrushed head… (and I am not talking about the kids)… means.
I know.
It means that Sunday worship is important to you.
It means that your children learning the Gospel and studying the Word of God is important to you.
It means that you knew that if you didn’t get even just a little Jesus time in today you were not sure you would ever be able to survive next week and your kids definitely might not even survive the rest of the day.
So when Sunday comes… go for it. Come as you are. Just as you am.
Know that the church t-shirts are made for these days!