29 January 2012

Homesick


I hate missing church. It is a unique pang which strikes when the bell rings across the street and I'm still over here in my smelly pajamas wiping up whatever revolting muck is erupting out of some kid's body*. Somebody brings home a bulletin and I look at it and see the hymns and think, "You guys sang this without me?"

Nothing drives home the worth of the exhausting effort, the niggling anxieties, the unavoidable embarrassments, the absurd and bewildering expectations, like having them taken away.

*Today, so far, it is only complaints. I am suspicious and very crabby.

5 comments:

Glenda said...

Yes, and I'll never forget the whole Holy Week and Easter Services I missed due to my severe illness.

Hope your household recovers quickly.

Gauntlets said...

Booooooo.

etem said...

me too. i was ever so bewildered when my husband said something about how i "got to" stay home.

lisa said...

Yes, the only thing worse than getting ready to go is Not Going. :P

Emommy said...

Ditto all, especially Lisa: "the only thing worse than getting ready to go..." Satan snickers heartily every.single.time. I sweatily, frustratingly wrestle the kidlings into the car to creep in the back of church during the first hymn, especially when it doesn't matter how early we've gotten started. Then again, maybe he's just trying really hard to distract me from the Priceless Gifts we're receiving...