It’s a church day. And chaos has a foothold in the house that is beginning to fray at the edges since I’ve been solo parenting for a few days.
When 7am came and went without any little footsteps emerging, I was hopeful for a calm, slowly emerging Sunday morning before we piled into the car and skidded off to church amidst our continually snowy surroundings.
Instead, emotions ran high from about 7.19am and the smallest person was disintegrating into tears at the thought of the playmobil rocket being moved two foot to the left by the insistent slightly bigger person. Having established a compromise on location, with plentiful space for the steam and fire that would accompany the imminent launch, life seems to return to an equilibrium. By 7.31am, the tears have returned because apparently there was a the need for a pile-on of brothers to ensure protection from the space launch. Hugs administered, I retreat to the shower and decide, while enjoying the fact that the streaming water drowns out any external drama, that pancakes may be in order to redeem the morning.
It turns out that while I’d been deliberately drowning out the noise, ninja costume had been donned and a nerf gun grabbed in order to ambush the younger brother at every opportunity. And, of course, prompt tears.
A few more outbursts occur before the fruity, yoghurty, syruped American breakfast is served. But we seem to be smiling. Until I mistake a request for a cut up pancake to mean actually cutting up into bite-size pieces. Unstoppable sobs. Tears dripping onto the plate. And the promise of the next pancake remaining in one piece.
Phew. And it’s only 8.30am. We have yet to embark on the ‘get clothes on, brush your teeth’ adventure that has to happen before we make it out of the house.
We make it to church. Littlest seems surprised that we are singing and not providing an activity for him before he goes for his class, and eldest is unsure why I haven’t brought every book in the house for him to peruse.
But we’re here. In amongst precious church family who know us in the highs and the lows, and the frayed edges. The songs are balm to my soul after a heavy week, and the sermon speaks of the reality of who we are in Christ irrespective of the circumstantial paths that have wended their way to this point in the week. New in Christ. Being renewed in the knowledge of God himself. Changed, but also battling sin in order to be who we really are. Yes.
Inevitably church days come with chaos, but even when the mess stretches out into the others sides of the week, I’m thankful for the unchanging reality of who God is, and who I am in Christ. Solid rock on which I stand. And praise God that Jonathan is back in a few hours!