Have you ever noticed that when you are trying your best to be "good" you suddenly realize just how bad you really are? Take this morning for example: On the way to church I used the commute to continue reading the juicy (and very racy) memoir that I stayed up until well after midnight reading. During the service my mind wandered all over the place. I found myself listening to His voice but not really feeling bold enough to ask for forgiveness. I know what I am suppose to do...I know how I am supposeto think...it's just that...I don't.
My son was an acolyte this morning. He left the house in a wrinkled shirt and too short blue jeans (all the more noticeable because he wore his boots...his "chicken-checkin' boots"). Seeing as I am not a morning person and I had not received my required 11 hours of sleep, I didn't fight him on it knowing full well that his long, white, acolyte's robe would cover it all.
I guess we are all kind of like that "outfit" of his: a little wrinkly, a little too short, and full of chicken-checkin' "stuff". Unfortunately we don't always have something to cover us up with. We can hide beneath many a layer, but we are who we are deep down underneath it all. If you have somebody who loves you no matter how many layers you use (and hopefully because of that love all the layers have peeled away)count yourself extremely lucky. If you don't think you have anybody-think again. God loves you wrinkles and all and that is a good thing to know when you feel like you are coming up short and your wrinkles can no longer be explained away as "sheet marks from my nap."
And so, while the kids were in Sunday school ,my husband and I peeled out of the church's parking lot, headed toward San Antonio, bought a Wii, and raced back in time to get the little angels. We are home now-fighting over whose turn it is and who tracked in the chicken-checking 'stuff.'
I'm afraid my own memoir is not going to fit under an acolyte's robe.
My son was an acolyte this morning. He left the house in a wrinkled shirt and too short blue jeans (all the more noticeable because he wore his boots...his "chicken-checkin' boots"). Seeing as I am not a morning person and I had not received my required 11 hours of sleep, I didn't fight him on it knowing full well that his long, white, acolyte's robe would cover it all.
I guess we are all kind of like that "outfit" of his: a little wrinkly, a little too short, and full of chicken-checkin' "stuff". Unfortunately we don't always have something to cover us up with. We can hide beneath many a layer, but we are who we are deep down underneath it all. If you have somebody who loves you no matter how many layers you use (and hopefully because of that love all the layers have peeled away)count yourself extremely lucky. If you don't think you have anybody-think again. God loves you wrinkles and all and that is a good thing to know when you feel like you are coming up short and your wrinkles can no longer be explained away as "sheet marks from my nap."
And so, while the kids were in Sunday school ,my husband and I peeled out of the church's parking lot, headed toward San Antonio, bought a Wii, and raced back in time to get the little angels. We are home now-fighting over whose turn it is and who tracked in the chicken-checking 'stuff.'
I'm afraid my own memoir is not going to fit under an acolyte's robe.
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