Sunday and Time

Cheer_Up_coffee_cupI am home today, sitting very still with some hot coffee, and trying to get well.  It’s been two weeks now with a horrible cough and fever (the fever is past now, but I mention it because I want sympathy. Loads of sympathy), and the thought of attempting a church sermon without hacking up copious amounts of lung onto my pew neighbor was demoralizing.

I am pretty sure my pew neighbor, whoever you are, is very happy I stayed home as well.  It would not have been the best way to greet someone at the stand-up-and-say,-“Good morning!”-part with this: “Erm, that’s my lung.  I’m so sorry!  Could I help wipe you up?  I have some wet ones in my purse.  And good morning!”

In fact, I kinda sound like one of these lovelies:


Except, I am NOT alone.  I have had two toddlers, a husband, and one angry cat circling me for days now (they don’t seem to “go away” as often as I tell them, in my head, to do so).

Those of you who are mommies, and especially those of you with young children, probably know the fresh form of hell that is:

When the Mommy is Sick.


I have no words.*  Really. ** You kind of just zombie yourself around, feel guilty about the copious dosages of PBS Kids that you are inflicting on ’em, wonder occasionally if making dinner will actually succeed at sucking out your soul, and contemplate your bed as THE PLACE OF HAPPINESS AND LIGHT. That is, until a toddler comes in, right up in your face, and says, “Mommy, I pottied a bit.  And Daddy is sweeping on da couch.  So I am here.” And then he starts to crawl up in the bed with you and you actually have this thought:

“Urine is sterile.  If he lies still I might be able to go back to sleep.  Oh.  He’s damp but it’s ok.  I haven’t been able to smell anything, since like, 1998, and he doesn’t seem to mind, so we’re good.”

You get the idea.

However, I told you that to tell you this:  This post is actually going to be about Jesus and His love for me.  I know, right?  Only Momsie can leap from a urine soaked bed of despair and Marlboro-like coughing to…  Our Saviour.

He’s with me on this one, so you can come along too:

Here’s what I read this morning in my devotional:

Today can be lived in the consciousness of God’s contact, upholding you in all good thoughts, words, and deeds. If sometimes there seems to be a shadow on your life and you feel out of sorts, remember that this is not the withdrawal of God’s presence, but only your own temporary unwillingness to realize it. The quiet gray days are the days for doing what you must do, but know that the consciousness of God’s nearness will return and be with you again, when the gray days are past.

This is taken, incidentally, from a lovely little book called 24 Hours a Day.  In it, it kindly and gently instructs me about the hardest lesson I have ever had to learn in this life:  Try to live one day at a time.  God has the rest of it.

So, in all my whining about being sick and sooooo tiiiirrrrred, I realized my devotional had yet again slapped me upside the head (it is sometimes necessary for me, the whacks upside the head.  I am not saying this is the BEST educational tool, but it works for me.)

You are here, with your coffee, and Groban’s Ave Maria (sublime).  And stillness.  And for right now, this is Where You Are.  So, say thank you.

And later, when the three wise men come home from church (angry cat doesn’t go to church, with explains a lot) you will need to keep saying THANK YOU.

Amen?  And amen.

Also, there is this, from my sweet-once-a-student-now-friend-and-new-mommah Melania (remember her?)  She emailed me recently with precisely the same thoughts.  She’s so smart.  🙂

Today I messed up. I decided I needed some taupe suede pumps to go with my leg warmers (because the 80s never died). So we made our way to the store. Forgetting of course that we are within the 12 days before Christmas. The shoes were purchased, even got some pj pants for the hubs, but it took longer than I anticipated and suddenly we found ourselves bumped up against nap time. My sweetie boy Henry was looking awfully cute in his tiny jeans and tiny smoking jacket but he was not sounding so cute with the shrill crying as I hustled us and our purchases out to the car. Which is when the cute little old lady said, as little old ladies are wont to do in these situations,

“Enjoy every minute of it!”

Maybe it was the cuteness of the little old lady, maybe it was the wreaths and Christmas music, but I didn’t respond in the normal new-mom-grumpy way of which my peers and I are often guilty. I just smiled.

As I was folding my stiff-as-a-board tiny demon into his car seat I realized what these little old ladies are saying.

“I miss having my babies. They grow up so quickly. It’ll be over before you know it.”


*Ok, I had words.  Quite a few. A whole blog post, nearly. Did you really think I would stay mum?  Not possible.

**Yes, really.


  1. It’s very hard when us mummies are sick. We get hardly any time to recuperate. Praying you feel better soon and thanks for sharing the devotional post because mine has gone by the wayside several days in a row. Must sort priorities. By the way love how you write.

  2. Totally. Agree. Sick mommy is just despair, I tell you. But right now I am curled up on the couch watching football w/ my boys and feeling much better. Lungs intact!

  3. Poor Thing , Poor Thing . This COLD has hung on since Thanksgiving ?? Right? Have you considered a doctor or prescription.drugs or or something. Sure am sorry , wish I could help. I got it I’ll send Money every one likes it and temporarily it makes the pain go away . ha My cure all how shallow is that ? Seriously , wish I could do something , Funny blog ,poor Henry . Other Momsie just called and said she talked to you and you were some better . Hope it continues , See now you don’t need the money Really , Really Shallow Love You much Dad


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