17 August 2008
I don't roll on Shabbas
I hate Sunday, because I should love it. But everybody needs to eat on Sunday, which requires cooking to begin with and by-produces dirty dishes and diapers just like any other day. Obviously there are all the complications that go into getting everyone to church while remembering to keep my voice down so the nice people on their way to church won't hear the all the yelling that goes on in their beautiful parsonage. Dad has to spend the afternoon pulling oxen out of wells. It wouldn't be a big deal except that I have this baptismally implanted notion that Sunday should be a day of rest. So I spend the whole day thinking about how it's Sunday and I should be resting instead of doing all the normal stuff plus. Then I get crabby.
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8 comments:
I agree. It is hard.
I remember hearing someone say that when they went to Israel, even though the restaurants were open, it would be cold leftovers, and you helped yourself. So (while I am not good at this), apparently, making sure it is a day of rest means working earlier to make sure that it is...such preparing something the night before that can cook in the crock pot all day or in a stock pot, or in the oven at low temperatures.....
Just like gathering an extra day's worth of manna for Sabbath, I guess....but its 5:59 and I am just now figuring out what is for dinner on this Sabbath...so it is more of a good idea for us...not something that is actually done. (and then paper plates?)
When the rule to rest becomes a bigger stress than the daily physical labor, something's out of kilter. Are you sure your thoughts about Sabbath-rest are really a "baptismally implanted notion"? What did Luther say about the Sabbath rest being about hearing the Word and not so much about what your body does or doesn't do?
I'm very aware that I am free in the Gospel to make biscuits and gravy (unCrockPot-able, unfortunately, and non-negotiable at this address), weed, can, and do laundry on Sunday. I just don't want to, and the fact that it's Sunday is a handy excuse to complain about it.
The thing that really annoys me is the oxen in wells. Someone Bad is obviously pushing them in on purpose.
Speaking of wells: YOUTH GROUP. Someone just up and cement that one over, for the love of all that cries and wipes boogers on walls. PLEASE.
Nothing like getting ready for church to put me in a bad mood. But once I'm there I'm usually good to go...until the twins start running up and down the aisles like yesterday. Argh!
Did someone say biscuits and gravy?
My mom is a pastor's wife and she raised four kids. Now when she joins my family of just two kids; she often says she has no idea how she made it to church with four kids.
Oxen!!! **Weeping**
I often hang some laundry out on Sunday afternoons (actually the best day to do it, as there's less dust from the elevator). Since it's Reformed territory hereabouts, I like to think of it as waving the (freshly laundered) flag of Christian freedom.
But yes. Sunday afternoons can all too easily become grumpy in a parsonage full of young-uns and empty of Dad.
Just a thought about those "oxen":
You know how sometimes we moms may complain about the noise level in the house, and all the incessant questions and whining? And then we meet a mom whose kid is incapable of speech, and she says with a sad smile, "I wish my kid bothered me with incessant questions. I wish my kid went yelling through the house."
How's about I just say that there is a different kind of pain when the oxen fall into the well but nobody ever thinks to call the pastor ... because what he has to offer really isn't valuable to their lives. From where I stand, there's even some jealousy that at your youth group, they want the pastor's involvement, instead of begrudging his presence in the building.
Please understand -- I am NOT denying the difficulty of having Dad be away and busy and rushed. But when nobody wants the pastor's time and attention, that too will hurt the family in the long run.
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