It was a Sunday morning like any other. My husband headed off to work like he has to every Sunday so I was home alone with my angels. My precious, adorable, bundles of joy.
And then they woke up.
Most Sundays are stressful in my household. Have you seen the movie MOM’S NIGHT OUT? Ali at home with her three kids Sunday morning before church? Yeah… that’s a lot like my house. Both of my children (he’s 4, she’s 1.5) are full of energy and get into everything they can possibly find. They jump from one thing to the next in a matter of seconds leaving behind them a wake of chaos. Don’t get me wrong, I love my children. And I know that kids will be kids and they are meant to explore and play and not be perfect little angels.
But like most kids on Sunday mornings, they seem to be “possessed.”
I get the struggle. We are trying to go to Church and there is an unforeseen battle going on to keep us from going. I believe that with all of my heart. However, this particular Sunday, I was not in the mood, nor had the energy to fight a Spiritual battle. I just wanted to get out the door with two well behaved children, arrive to church on time (even early, perhaps!), and appear like I had it all together as the perfect mother. Is one time too much to ask?
We made it to church just in time. I dropped little girl off in the nursery, grabbed a “quiet bag” for Levi and found a good spot for us in the back of the Sanctuary just inside the door until he was dismissed for toddler church. He always seems to have to use the bathroom right int he middle of prayer or something so it’s a good place for us to park so we can scoot out undetected and quiet.
Announcements were made and the service started. Worship music filled the Sanctuary and I was still a little on edge as I usually am early on in the service. It takes me a few minutes to decompress and focus. Levi loves music so so when the rest of the congregation stood up to sing, he put down his coloring book and was ready to attempt to sing (at least hum along until he gets the words).
That morning the youth group was going to be sharing about their summer Mission Trip, so our Youth Director and his wife were up front helping to lead worship. Now the church we’re attending has a blended service. It’s not overly traditional but not fully contemporary, either. (And this post is not to start a debate about which is “better”)
There aren’t too many that will raise their hands during worship, however our youth director and his wife do (which I LOVE but please, again, don’t make this a debate about how to worship). Since they were up front, Levi noticed them and since they had their hands up worshiping, he decided he would too. He looked around and noticed that no one else really was doing it. We were singing, but not with our hands in the air. He looked over at me with a face like “Mom, what is wrong with you?!” and said, “Mommy, do this with me!”
With tears coming into my eyes, I felt the Holy Spirit say to me “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest [Matthew 11:28]. Heidi, Sundays aren’t about you! Sunday’s are about taking time to worship me. You’re tired, you’re weary, you’re impatient. Take a cue from your 4-year-old and come to me.”
I know my son didn’t fully understand what he was doing. He knew we were singing about God and taking time to learn about Him – but he brought God to me that morning. He opened my eyes to true worship. It’s not about me. It’s not about coming to God with a smile on my face pretending that it’s all right. God knew the impatient attitude that I had with my kids earlier. He knew I hadn’t slept well. He knew I was grumpy. I was weary. I was heavy laden. I found rest… with the help of my son.
I scooped him up, kissed him on the cheek, and threw my free hand in the air and Levi & I worshiped like we were in an arena of 10,000 angels.
“A child will lead them…”