Pre-Christmas Blues

I know, I know.  This title does not exactly scream: "READ ME.  YOU'LL LOVE ME!"  I just wanted to write a few things down before I forget.

As some of you already know, yesterday was a banner day for the Hennessee clan.  Recently, I have been having either pre-Christmas blues or some sort of faith crisis.  Recent events have pulled me away from the body of Christ and made me question my service for the Lord.  Am I doing what He wants?  Am I going about my service in the wrong way?  Does God want me to quit because I'm doing more harm than good? Didn't know if it was Satan's work in my life or God sending me a direct message, but I decided to pull away from Sunday services for a few weeks and see what happened.  Answer:  nothing and I became more conflicted about my walk with God.  I seriously considered quitting everything to do with the body of Christ to keep from messing up or being a bad influence on others' personal walks.

Cut to Saturday night.  We had a long day of watching Gib (the 9 yr old) play in a volleyball tournament.  By the time the tournament was over, we only had time to eat some dinner, relax for an hour, and then hit the hay.  As I lay in bed, I vowed to put on my big girl panties and insert myself back into the fold of God's people on Sunday morning.

I woke up excited to see what word God would speak to me.  What would he tell me about my absence?  What would I hear about our long expected Savior this Advent?  How could I be a better servant?  As we sat in the back of the church in the balcony, the service was all I could have hoped for.  Gib and Moo (the 13 yr old) were not pestering each other (a rare event), and we sang some of my favorite Christmas hymns.  The pastor preached an elegant and powerful sermon.  As we sang the final song and the Hubs and Gib ducked out to get ready for Sunday School, I stood there with my arm around Moo and thought, "Yes, this is Christ's body.  I am home."  As we turned to leave after the final prayer, a man approached and said, "Excuse me, I don't mean to cause any problems, but your daughter was playing a game on her iPhone during the sermon.  It was very distracting and we were all talking about it behind you.  It was distracting for the whole section behind you.  That is why I always tell my daughter to turn off her phone during church."  I stood there like an idiot, smiled, nodded, and simply said "OK" to each poisoned word that fell from his mouth.  As this man called me a bad parent, Moo was standing there watching the whole thing.  When he finally ran out of steam, I said, "Thanks for telling me."  Wow!  Am I the queen of all comebacks or what?  I might as well have said, "Thank you, sir.  May I have another?"  A woman who had walked up to me with Mr. Perfect Parent gained some courage from my sappy response and said, "Yes, it was very distracting and should stop."  All I could do was put my arm around Moo and take her to her Sunday School class while I staggered off to mine.

Anyway, I am now flummoxed about what God is trying to say.  Am I supposed to change service times (which would mean no longer ministering to newly married couples)?  Am I supposed to not bring my daughters to the church service any more?  Does God need me to step even further away than I have?

As I lay in bed last night, tears fell from my eyes.  Some were grateful tears for friends who have spoken words of encouragement to me after hearing of this event.  Some were bitter tears of hate for a man who could speak to me that way in front of my daughter.  Some were tears of sadness that God could be telling me I am not an integral part of his body and I need to be "pruned" away.  Pardon my French, but what the #$@#%& am I supposed to do with this?  I finally fell into a fitful sleep around 11:30.

Midnight comes and with it Gib's sweet but pale face by my bed telling me she did not feel good.  Long story short, my "distracting" angel and I spent the entire night (until 5:30 am) with Gib hanging over the toilet and me holding back her sweet blond hair.  When she cried out, "Why won't it stop?" I wondered the same thing: why won't this all stop?

Now I am left with the shaky, adrenaline feeling you get after you have a near hit in your car.  (Yes, I mean near hit and NOT near miss.  A near miss is an actual wreck.  Thank you, George Carlin).  All I can do is pray that the glory and excitement of Advent will take over and that I will not again be an unwelcome distraction to others.  Tall order for me.

OK, I vow to take time this Christmas and write a happy blog entry.  I seem to recall I have never done my entry on the top 10 most quotable movies.  Book it.