All of the details are a bit blurry, but the headlines go something like this...
Entire family arrives at church in time for Sunday School.
Half of family leaves worship service a smidge early to change clothes for the rest of the day.
Kid #1 Dropped off 30 minutes late for warm ups for baseball game.
Kid #3 Delivered to actual softball game 45 minutes late because the field was located in a part of our fair town known only to elves and gnomes (and Kid #1's teammate's father -- thank goodness)!
Kid #2 Had to catch a ride to her recital with her incoming grandparents and cousin and meet her mother and Kid #1 at the recital site in the next town over.
Kid #3 Missed the victory celebration at the Dairy Queen because she and her father had to haul buggy to Kid #2's piano recital.
Kid #2 arrived on time for her recital (probably because neither of her parents were involved in her transport to said event.)
Unfortunately, the buggy hauling efforts of Kid #3 and her father were no match for the short yet sweet recital of Kid #2 and they missed the recital.
It's all good, however, because the mother of this ambitious group was able to film the stellar performance of Kid #2 with her cell phone while taking pictures with her camera (you may at this point wish to refer to the Mother's Day post from last week or, you can watch Meg's performance below.)
(Our family theme song!)
The "Kid #3 & Daddy" Buggy did arrive at the recital site just as the rest of the gang was leaving.
We took the opportunity to snap a few pictures.
Kid #1, Kid#2, Kid #3 AND Cousin #1 were loaded into a Subaru with Poppy (grandfather to everyone in this story with a number after his or her name...he's an accountant, he can handle it!!)
Next, Truck, Van, & Subaru return to our home and we bid fond farwells to Cousin #1 and Grandparents.
Weary family gathers at entrance of home and agrees on hot dogs for dinner and then someone suggests that Kid #4 should be picked up from the-nice-lady-that-rescues-her-on-days-like-today on the way home from getting hot dog buns from the store.
Parent #1 smacks forehead and says, "Oh yeah, Kid #4!"
Kid #4 arrives home along with the hot dog buns.
Dinner is a smashing ketchup-filled success during which it is decided that Kid #3 should be treated to a Dairy Queen treat. Kids #1, #2, and #4 all feel that they too should be included as does Parent #2.
Family snags a nice outdoor table at the DQ and enjoys quickly melting ice cream deliciousness.
Parent #2 sends Kid #2 to the car keys and cone in hand, to get the baby wipes (which Parent #2 is so very proud to have remembered to toss into the van on the way out the door...again please see Mother's Day post=-) to combat the sticky monster that always accompanies the family to the DQ.
Kid#2 returns from the van keys and cone in hand, but was unable to gain entry to the van because her cone was melting so fast that it required her undivided attentions.
Kid #1 was sent to the car coneless with keys in hand to get the aforementioned baby wipes.
Kid #1 returned from the mission baby wipes and mother's cell phone (to check the score of the Red Socks game) in hand but no keys which is strange because Parent #2 just finished issuing a warning regarding that very circumstance.
Parent #1's keys were locked in the van as were Parent #2's.
Happily, we did have the baby wipes and ice cream AND we knew the score of the Red Socks game, so things really weren't THAT bad...RIGHT?
Road side assistance (a number dialed by our family only a few times less than the number to Poison Control) was notified and a tow truck was dispatched from, as it would happen, the same town as Kid #2's recital earlier in the day.
Kid #2 and Kid #3 and Kid #4 decided that a bathroom break was necessary, unfortunately, the DQ had closed five minutes before.
Shortly after the ice cream treats were eaten or had melted and the DQ had locked us out, the tow truck arrived.
Parent #2 decided that the children should learn how to break into cars, and so instructed all of the children to gather 'round Tow Truck Man#1 and watch how he unlocked our van.
Tow Truck Man #1 quickly unlocked our doors and set off the car alarm, which sent Kid #4 into an ear plugging, eye widening episode.
Parent #1 found the keys and turned off the car alarm.
Family drives home, exits the van in the driveway, and enters home.
Parent #2 presses button to close garage door and hears Kid #4 crying "Mommy, mommy!" from the driveway.
Parent #2 stops descent of garage door and circles van in driveway to find Kid #4 (whom she thought was in the house with Kid #1, Kid #2, and Kid #3) standing on the opposite side of the van in tears.
Parent #2 scoops up distraught Kid #4 who yells, "Mommy, why did you leave me outside?"(This would NOT be a good time to read last week's Mother's Day post =-( )
Parent #1 AND Parent #2 spend a load of time trying to explain to an unforgiving Kid #4 that we thought she was in the house.
Kid #4 not buying it, still feeling thrown out like the trash.
Parent #1 and Parent #2 hope that someday Kid #4 will not be traumatized by her abandonment in the family driveway and that Kid #1, Kid #2 and Kid #3 are not traumatized by the day's missteps but will give their parents credit for the effort expended.
Kid #1 hoping that the Red Socks are victorious this season.
Kid #2 making plans to never let Kid #1 forget his flubbed mission for baby wipes.
Kid #3 looking up phone numbers to taxi services in our town to take her to her next game.
Kid #4 on the hunt for a spare garage door opener, just in case.
(Photos in this post have been treated with a "retro" filter on purpose, for fun. Please don't think that your computer screen is on the fritz! As always, thanks for reading. This May begins the third year of The Wright Place! )
You might expect a post from the wife of a pastor, when she's being serious (which she generally tries to avoid), to perhaps advise, counsel, instruct or maybe suggest how to handle certain situations, events, or circumstances in a "proper Christian manner".
Well, friends, that's NOT gonna happen here. Doing so would imply that I HAVE A CLUE about how to handle certain situations, events, or circumstances when in fact (and as you will soon see) I HAVEN'T A CLUE most of the time.
Sure, sometimes, I remember to consult my Bible and to gain some guidance on a matter and get much direction therein. Other times I run to the Word to sooth my jittery soul after I've messed up royally. Still other instances exist when I know what Scripture says regarding a particular matter (and I even know where to find it in my Bible) and frankly I choose to ignore it completely. This is never a good plan...take last Sunday for example...
After a very full weekend at church, spending time with friends and receiving excellent instruction from visiting speakers, I awoke at 7 o'clock on Sunday morning feeling like it would be wise to don my cross trainers instead of my Mary Jane's. I performed my usual style and fluff routine and then woke the kids. I'd prepared muffins a day or so earlier so that I'd have a breakfast I could hurl toward their bleary-eyed bed-rumpled heads without slowing my pace. While they ate, I headed to the basement and heated "Old Faithful" and began ironing two dresses, two shirts, and a pair of khaki pants.
We made it to church with a few minutes to spare and I set up my post in the nursery for the day. I'd arranged to pull a "double shift" with the babies so that I could wear more comfortable and less er...confining clothing than I usually do on Sundays. During my shift, a tired Molly was delivered to me no fewer than three times from her various places of learning and playing because of an inability to deal with life. She was, as they say in the south, "flat exhausted" from the weekend and was refusing to join the stream of things peacefully. Each time, I calmed her as best as I could and sent her back to join the rest of her crew.
After worship service ended, I rushed upstairs and handed Molly to the dear soul who was to look after her for the rest of the day, handed car keys to Meg who was off like a shot to get a change of clothes for she and Kate. While waiting for her, I found my son who had just finished a successful change into his baseball get up and was ready for the next chapter in his day.
After collecting a freshly changed Meg and Kate from the church's restroom, we piled into the car, waved cheerily to our church family, and we left them in the dust.
Our first stop was to drop Cole at his scrimmage across town. Happily this day, unlike the day before, we had him in the correct uniform and only arrived about 45 minutes behind schedule...(long winded preachers, what are you gonna do??). I stopped to tell the coach's wife that I would return in a while to watch the game but that I had to drop my daughters off elsewhere. She nodded understandingly and I was off once more.
Next, Meg and Kate were chauffeured to a neighboring town's Pizza Hut for the much awaited princess birthday party of a royal friend. I explained to the hosting parents that I had to run but would return in a while because my son was currently playing in a ball game. They nodded understandingly and again, I was off.
On my way back into town, I stopped and spent a minute with my Man as he grabbed a bite to eat at our usual after-church venue where we usually relax with friends over pizza and leisurely conversation. I hurried my Man through his lunch and explained to our friends that we had to go because our kids were...yada yada yada. They nodded understandingly, and I was off with my man following behind in a seperate vehicle to the ball field to watch Cole in action.
We parked our respective cars and were walking toward the field just in time to see the two teams line up to shake hands, marking the end of the game. We asked Cole for a play-by-play of the game, which he was happy to relate, and loaded him into the family van. We told my Man "Bye!" as he was headed to a town 30 minutes away for a multi-church gathering that was set to begin in approximately 30 minutes.
I dropped Cole at home for food and a shower, and headed back to the next town to pick up the girls. I arrived in time to tell them to thank their host and hostess and to take them home again. The entire time I was driving too and fro, I was attempting to listen to the sermon I'd messed earlier that morning which I downloaded onto my iPod when I'd made a quick stop at home for a change of clothes. I finally got to finish listening to it after I called the kind soul who had Molly to check on them. Molly was sleeping and I was a bit jealous. I decided to take a little rest myself, but I had to hurry because Kate had softball practice in an hour and I had to help her practice throwing the ball so that she'd stop throwing it like a girl.
I kept telling everyone, "It's not supposed to be this way, you know?? Not on SUNDAY!" This is one of those things the Bible is pretty specific about. This is one of those things that is WELL covered in Scripture. This is one of those things that has its own COMMANDMENT, the fourth one to be specific: Exodus 20:8 exhorts, "Remember the Sabbath day to keep it holy."
I think it a bit odd when I read that fourth commandment that I'm being warned ahead of time to remember something. We are usually told to remember something that has already happened. Yet it says, remember the Sabbath day. Perhaps God knew what my last Sunday was going to look like and wants me to remember it well. Oh, I remember it alright. To my mind, the one that is still recovering from last Sunday and all of its fallout, "Remember the Sabbath" sounds much like "Remember the Alamo!", the battle cry used by Sam Houston to bring to memory the Texan defeat at the hands of Mexican forces. Houston wanted to remind his soldiers of earlier defeat, to inspire them to future victory. I'd like "Remember the Sabbath!!" to make my heart beat toward a future victory as well!
"Remember the Sabbath!"
Translation: "Gretchen, remember the mess that was last Sunday. Remember how you got into such a crazy overcommitted schedule. Remember how tired and cranky your family was on Monday...and Tuesday...and...Remember what it's supposed to be. Remember what it's NOT supposed to be.
...Don't forget to remember... so that you can keep it holy."
This morning we woke to alarms. First to my Man's set to "foghorn" and then to mine which rings like an old-fashioned telephone. Our plans were to leave our Inn at 8:30 and drive to Parkside Church near Cleveland, OH so that we would be in plenty of time for the last worship service of the morning. I'm happy to say that even though I saved all of the ironing until this morning and was having a questionable "hair day", we were on the road by 8:29. Someone PLEASE put this in my permanent record!
We were in great shape with bookstore time to spare. The church has a bookstore AND a coffee shop within its walls and we had cushioned our schedule accordingly. All was going very well and according to plan until we hit some major...
Sunday...
morning...
...TRAFFIC!
Once the traffic cleared, we were able to make our way to church.
(This is the guy I get to sit beside of for the WHOLE service!!)
Before we hit the pew for worship, we took a little detour...
Coffee!!
After a thorough "going through" of each and every one of the bookstore shelves, we were ready to worship.
All these people, and not a familiar face. (This was the third service of the morning).
I'm getting a bit homesick for MY own church family!!
Dr. Begg's sermon was from Romans 8.
The sermon was a good one, but the pastor at my home church is MUCH cuter!
Here's what made it worth my trip to church...
After church we ate at one of my favorites...
they serve burritos as big as bricks! I'm still full...I ate the entire brick.
We may or may not have passed by and into a wonderful used bookstore on the way back to the Inn (we're are in need of a twelve step program I'm pretty sure),
after which we simply enjoyed the drive...
with a different sort of traffic,
and the scenery...
The heavens declare the glory of God, and the sky above proclaims his handiwork.
