"My beloved is unto me as a bundle of myrrh." Song of Solomon 1:13
Monday, June 5th, 2017
For some it’s a bad “Case of the Mondays” they come down with. For this pastor’s wife with a bunch of kids, it’s a case of the Sundays I get. The Sundays start on Saturday. It used to be Saturdays were the time of the sighing, the dreading, the prepping, the praying “Lord please help me get through tomorrow morning!” Thankfully Sundays are getting better.
Tuesday, September 6th, 2016
Sunday, February 21st, 2016
This morning our family was officially received as new members of our new congregation. It’s nice to have the public recognition of who our new members are so everyone can see faces. We were a part of a big group of 38 new members!
We’re very blessed to be a part of this church. But it was the “new members come on down!” moment I worried about and contemplated just staying right where I was.
But as I got up to go on down to the front of the sanctuary only 3 of the babies marched, skipped or hopped behind me. “How bad could it be?” I thought.
As pastor swore all of us in it ended up not being that bad.
Not that bad except for:
Gerhardt: Continually lifting my dress or sliding half his body up under it. It wasn’t even a short dress! I’m sure no one noticed me pinching his arms and putting a choke hold on him.
Ephraim: Pulling a fast one and bringing a truck along with him and driving it around on the floor and dropping it loudly…several times. Though he was sweet enough to put it down and fold his chubby little hands while we prayed. Then drive it half way up the aisle on his hands and knees as we discreetly went back to our pew.
Esther: My favorite today. Not praying but picking her nose and eating the contents and managing to find a nice big slimy one to examine and rub around right in front of the world.
Welcome to our church Hale family!
Tuesday, September 1st, 2015
We all have been there right? At church with a sickling, worried that it’s gonna happen. Been there several times myself. And I’ve always been so relieved when the service is over and it didn’t happen.
Well it happened Sunday and I can finally join the ranks of you on the other side of the worry. Poor Clara tossed her cookies during the sermon, in the third pew from the front. Thankfully her dress and beloved blankie caught all of it and we made a discreet exit right down the very loooong middle aisle of the sanctuary.
It was going so smoothly until I saw her sandal flapping around her dear little ankle. Since this was already going so well I just scooped her up and made a nice production of the whole thing the rest of the way out.
All that for our first official week to church on my own. Until we’re in the parsonage Sunday mornings will require me dressing the babies, loading everyone into the Econoline, buckling them in and making the drive sans Phil.
I had done it though. We got there. Clara sick and me a sweaty beast of glamorous frustration, but, I’ll say it again, we got there. And on time I’ll add.
I cleaned Clara up as best I could, sneaked back into the sanctuary during communion and gathered what other babies and bags I could so we could just leave already. By 10:45 it had already been a long day and we wearies needed some rest.
You win some, you lose some.
And sometimes you’re somewhere right in the middle of both.
