Note: Monday Morning Quarterback is a weekly post reviewing Sunday, the busiest, most stressful, most gratifying day in the week of a pastor/parent/spouse/citizen.
Song of The Day:
5:48. Eyes open. Check clock on phone. 12 minutes more . . .
6:00. No way that was 12 minutes.
6:14. It’s going to be a red pants day.
6:38. Chewing strong coffee and scribbling edits to the late night sermon manuscript. What a mess.
7:12. Daughter clomps down the stairs. Sermon editing done. Well, not done. But I’m not doing any more now.
8:00. Wrestling with daughter’s favorite dress. Who designs clothes that have to be tied on? “It’s not long enough!” she protests. Pardon me for insisting on some five year-old modesty.
8:17. Daughter pitching a fit over limited wardrobe choices. Teeth not brushed. Hair tangled. Not fed. No way I make it to confirmation class on time. Drumming the stair rail impatiently. Dangling one of mommy’s scarves as a carrot.
8:24. Resorting to the fake phone call to the neighbor reporting that Daughter will need to stay home. Screams. Tears. But movement. Fake phone call saves the day.
8:41. Out the door as Daughter presses the protest over dress length. Realizing that wheels-up on Sunday is not the same as wheels-up Monday thru Thursday. Mommy usually gets Sunday, but she’s at a conference this weekend.
8:49. Arrive at church to find daughter’s playmate. All concerns over dress length forgotten. Deposit jumbled manuscript on the pulpit, hand Daughter off to Sunday School teachers, and fly to confirmation class. Student already there.
9:16. Going over Book of Order description of the “Ministry of Members” with confirmation students. Deer. In. Headlights.
9:53. Giving a rough once over to Scripture drama with four student readers. Lots of room here for calamity.
10:08. Spot the 10th grade nursery staffer balancing a two year-old on his hip during the opening hymn and the tot’s parents looking on in delight from 10 pews back. Loosening up.
10:18. 3rd graders getting Bibles presented to them by 6th and 7th grade peers. Perfect, perfect, perfect.
10:49. Using conclusion of sermon to rehearse an improv Charge and Benediction. Congregation nails it. “Um, amen.”
11:04. Stopped at rear entrance after recessional by guest who just arrived with a flurry of questions. Improv indeed.
11:21. Shaking hands and noticing glances going downward to the red pants protruding from the bottom of the black robe. “They’re not red,” someone insists. “They’re coral.”
11:28. Where’s Daughter?
11:44. Collecting garden-grown lettuce from church members from the church fridge. They grew it in the new church garden, then picked it and left it for me on Thursday. I’m only getting it now, and the disappointment in their faces is hard to ignore.
12:02. Tearing Daughter away from her playmate to go home.
12:17. Home and working on lunch. Daughter wants to play birthday party and make me a “Birthday Salad”: leaves of lettuce topped with pepper and thyme sprigs. I choke it down. She bounces like a sprite.
1:06. Still playing birthday party. Daughter sits me on a stool and throws things at my head. “It’s a plague simulator!”
1:49. Turn on The Ten Commandments for Daughter so I can lay on the couch with her and doze off. First, watch the Royals walk off against the Blue Jays. Sweet Sunday nap dreams.
2:38. Awake to paused movie and Daughter gone. Find her upstairs “getting all fancy” to watch the rest of it. “Do you know who I am?” she asks. Nephritiri? “Oh, yes, of course!”
3:01. Coffee and planning the week’s meals with new Trader Joe’s vegetarian cookbook.
3:56. Dropping Daughter at neighbors’ so I can head to youth groups. Kissing neighbors’ feet.
4:42. Heaping helping of seven layer bean dip brought by 8th grader for snack. Careful–the red pants.
5:49. Sardines in the sanctuary. Small 13 year-olds should not be allowed to hide amidst pageant costumes.
6:32. College-aged youth group volunteer advising me on upcoming “dating and relationships” talk with high school youth. She was in high school only three years ago, and I never did this talk with her class.
7:13. 9th grader keeps announcing that he’s Batman. I’m lost=missed meme.
8:32. Talking dating and relationships with high school students. No problem. I got this . . .
8:33. Wait. I don’t got this.
8:46. Student describes his father’s youth: “He went to Catholic school. Nuns. All guys.”
8:47. Three minutes of giggling about guy nuns.
8:56. Colleague arrives mere seconds after her kid spills the beans about who gives the birds-and-bees talk at their house.
9:22. Home to find neighbor horizontal on couch. Down comes Daughter from her bedroom and jumps into my arms from the fifth step. Kiss the neighbors feet again.
9:27. Five minutes of The Hobbit with Daughter in her bed. Maybe the giant spider part not the wisest choice.
9:45. Settle down to watch condensed game of Royals win. House is quiet. Pants are still red.
YoRocko! 
I liked the sermon. In fact, I had a little discussion with Krista right after about betrayal, forgiveness and having the faith to trust again (ANANIAS: the hero of such)
She said she’d always thought it significant the Dante’s Inferno had the people who betrayed at the lowest level of hell (or was is purgatory? whatever). So. Peter and his rooster, and Ananias and the next act after the road to Damascus…chewy stuff
They’re high ideals, right? What other stories reinforce them? Certainly not toy story!
You should just be thankful the red pants STAYED red, and the dye didn’t run all up and down your legs during the morning when you were “sweating” it out!!!
Never let ‘Em see you sweat, Carolyn!
Thank you! I feel crummy today but you made me laugh.
Mom
Sent from my iPad
Feel better, mom 🙂
Just have to say, the description of your morning “before sermon” has my stomach in knots. Whenever I have to be “on” in a professional, significant, way, I find it difficult to split my mind between my kids’ needs and my need to focus on what is coming up. You had a busy morning!!! Which makes that sermon all the more impressive. ( Perhaps I need to re-think the relative value of kid-distraction-before-major-performances!) Anyway…I did really want to say that your sermon inspired some frantic thumb-typing in my ‘notes’ app that lasted well into the postlude. It was a great sermon for me. I grew up in a church that talked a LOT about conversion…and in ways that never really worked for me. Your sermon dramatically expanded my previous concepts about conversion that I’m still processing. Thanks!
You’re such a valuable colleague and conversation partner, Jenelle. Thank you.
These are just some of my favorite things to read. I love it. Love it. Thank you for these reflections. You help this pastor know she is only as crazy as you are…
“only as crazy as you are . . . ” I certainly hope so, Shannon 🙂
I’m batman