We didn’t make it to Mass today. I wish I could say this hardly happens, but it’s been a trend this winter. Sickness, exhaustion after late nights at work, forgot to set an alarm and wake up after Mass has begun.
But while I was getting ready to leave this morning (because I really did think we were going to make it this time) I realized I have some pretty strong aversions to “Going to Church” from some deep seeded thoughts that go all the way back to my childhood.
I feel like if I can’t get up at 6:30am, have quiet time, make an amazing breakfast, dress everyone perfectly, and calmly toddle off to church a few hours later it means I have failed God, the church, my children and myself.
I work late nights. Saturday nights especially.
I have to sleep in so I don’t get sick AGAIN.
When I do get up the kids have been up and playing for a while. I bust out a PBJ for my hungry monkeys and call it good for breakfast. On good days I bring out the fruit and make it a balanced meal.
I do not have dresses for my daughter or dress pants for my son. I barely have decent clothing for myself at this point.
I don’t want these things to hold me back from my duty to worship God. But I feel like they are. I am hesitant to go knowing I haven’t done it “right”.
But that’s not what it is, is it. I am not there to be a put together mom with perfectly calm children every week. I am not there for me. I am there for God.