Every Sunday, Same Story

It's Monday. Most people think Monday's are the worst day of the week.
I get to Monday and think, "Yes, I made it through!"
My "Monday" is Sunday.
I can hear a collective gasp from all of you but there is a reason for this.
Sunday's are a busy, hurry hurry, no time to breathe, house gets turned upside down, what are we having for Sunday dinner, so NOT a day of rest time for me.
I know, I know...But I can't seem to make it happen.
You'd think I'd get it. But every Sunday it just sneaks up on me and WHAM! here's Sunday and somehow I'm shocked at how things just aren't going well. As if I should be surprised by this.
But this last Saturday I tried. I totally tried.
I tried to make Saturday my preparation day. I did everything I thought I needed to do so that come Sunday morning I wouldn't be in such a mess.
(Yeah, I should always do that but like I said, it always just sneaks up on me!- I didn't say I was a smart one.)
So Sunday morning rolled around yesterday and I. was. ready. Go me!
I got up early and started the Sunday routine. I started singing songs that would get me in the mindset of worship. I had all my ducks in a row.
And then someone starting shooting at my ducks.
Things just snowballed.
And somehow I was surprised.
And what's worse, it was actually more terrible than it usually is.
So much for best laid plans.
Ya'll I can't explain yesterday morning except to say that I may have a few more gray hairs as a result.
In a nutshell without telling you everything because I'm pretty sure I blocked part of it out, here is some of what happened.
It took me forever to do my hair and I still ended up looking like a scared Pomeranian.
The outfit I had planned on wearing didn't fit (in a bad way!) and I only have one other outfit that fits post-pregnancy. So I had to go digging (and I mean digging) through a huge box of clothes to find something.
My hair got messed up during the digging so I had to re-work that. Still looked like that Pomeranian.
I flung the outfit I had discovered in the dryer to iron (thought it would be faster) but it didn't work so when I got it out just before we had to leave it still looked wrinkled so I had to pull out the iron before wearing it.
I still hadn't gotten Lydia dressed and couldn't for the life of me find the socks I had decided to put her in. I was tempted to let her go barefoot.
At this point we should be leaving RIGHT NOW and I'm still not ready.
I run around like a mad woman doing last minute stuff like changing a diaper again, making sure the diaper bag is stocked, realizing I forgot to put deodorant on so running back upstairs to do that because by this time, I'm a needin' it, going back downstairs and going back upstairs to get my Bible. I think I went up and down stairs like four times.
So we are finally ready to go and I think I have managed to get us in the car safely and put together in a presentable, church fashion and then I come this close to ramming the mail box as I'm backing out.
I avoid collision and we are on the way. Late.
At the stop light I almost run a red light because I wasn't paying attention. The stoplight was in front of the police station. That would have been nice.
So knowing we are going to be a few minutes late and still wondering how that happened, I am pretty much speeding (honey, if you are reading this, just kidding!). I don't speed. But yesterday I was in a hurry. There's something funny about breaking the law to get to church on time.
But I made it. Albeit 5 minutes late but I made it.
I dropped Lydia off in the nursery and kinda oozed into a seat. I was tired.
But I tried to focus on what church is about and starting worship in my heart. It worked. The tired left and I concentrated on God and the awesome privilege we have in this country to get up Sunday mornings and meet together without fear of persecution to turn our hearts toward Him and praise Him for all He is to us. It so makes the morning hassle worth it. Every bit of it.
When we got home that afternoon, my house looked like a wreck. There was stuff everywhere from my hurried flinging of baby stuff, dishes, miscellaneous items and lets not forget the huge mass of clothes in my closet that I had to refold at some point and put back in the box.
I looked at my mess and did what I was supposed to do on a day of rest. I took a nap.
PTL Lydia took a nice long nap and so did I!
Monday came and all the Sunday wreckage got put away but the wonderful worship service and fellowship is still with me and that's what matters.