Sunday Morning Guilt

I really hope you’re not reading my blog in order to “better yourself”…you know, become a better person or learn how to raise a Cleaver-esque family. I hope by now you’ve realized that this is not so much a “how to” blog as a “how NOT to” blog…

Because, my friends, it’s Sunday morning. The Lord’s Day. And what are we doing, you ask?

  • Cheerily dressing for church while humming classic hymns?
  • Devoting our morning to Bible study and worship?
  • Communing with our fellow parishioners for coffee and praise?


Instead, I’m on the computer (obviously), while Boy #1 stands in front of me wearing nothing but a pair of shorts rocking out to Guitar Hero while some beast-like character in the background of the game swings a stone hammer and the words “I am death” or some similar pleasant lyric blasts out of the speakers.

Should I worry about going to hell?

Yeah, don’t answer that question. I’m pretty sure I already know the answer.

Husband just got home from setting up Sunday School classes at church and reasoned that it’s too darn cold to take the kids out. It IS bitingly cold this morning. Below zero windchill and all.

But is that just an excuse? Or am I just so lazy tired sucky that the thought of rallying the troops to bathe, pull on clothes, and get out the door in time just to hear them whine, complain (or in Boy #3’s case, lay face-down on the floor of his Sunday School classroom and refuse to get up) is just more than I want to deal with this morning?

The answer is yes.

If only I could do the Jeanie head-nod or Bewitched nose twitch and we could all be groomed, happy, and inside the building… Seriously, that would be the super-power I would choose if I could choose any.

But instead, my children will likely still be in their pajamas (or their underwear) this evening.

And I may or may not have changed out of my flannel sock monkey pants.

God help us all.


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