Much More Difficult Than Expected

I taught our Wednesday night class last night and it went well. But getting there was tough.

I got to church late, which normally wouldn’t be a big deal, but the reason we go early is for Owen’s FUSE team (kid’s praise team) rehearsal. I had forgotten my teaching notes and had to turn around and get them, and it made us late. Twenty minutes late. Almost every week before this one we get there on time and arrive before the lady who leads the team. She has a job and a family and she doesn’t always make it by 5:00. What I didn’t know, because 7 year old boys don’t tell their moms things like this, is that she quit last week and one of the children’s pastors took over for her and had announced that the doors would be locked after 5:15 and no one who came late would be allowed in. The one and only time we have ever been that late and we were locked out. I got Owen in (cause I know people who know people with keys) and explained that I didn’t know ANYTHING and tried not to embarrass my son further with my frustration. The pastor in charge didn’t yell at us or try to embarrass us, but he and the young woman helping were unbending in insisting that we should have known how serious it is to be late.

Seriously…that’s not the sort of thing little boys talk about. If the previous leader had used gun sounds to communicate she were leaving and they had illustrated the new locked door policy with crashing 4 x 4’s, he would have told me, but they just said it…like with plain old words…and he forgot.

Being late makes me cranky, being late and locked out makes me defensive, being late, locked out and embarrassed makes me pause to get control before I make it worse, being late, locked out, embarrassed and stressed because I still have to teach a class in an hour makes me want to curl up in a little ball and cry. I felt “flustery” (I made that up last night) and I felt a little exposed and ashamed and couldn’t find a place to hide anything. The more agitated I felt, the more agitated I got about feeling agitated.

Then…I sat down to eat dinner and as badly as my little heart needed some protein to make my “flustery” feelings settle down, it took me a long time to just pick up my sandwich and eat. I kept looking at it, thinking about what I should have done better and then looking at it again. My friend Brooke sat across from me and I told her what had happened. She knew about it. She has girls on the FUSE team. She still seemed to sympathize a little, but then I told her that I was supposed to teach on parenting she smiled a very knowing and kind and a little bit humored smile and said, “That’s why.”

She meant that’s why things weren’t going well, and that’s why I felt like I had just been scolded by my elementary principal but it really wasn’t that big of a deal and she also meant that it really would be okay…maybe even better than okay. And I felt my eyes getting a little wet because I knew that there were much bigger things going on than lateness and new policies and frustrated pastors and iced tea and chicken sandwiches. None of those things were why we were at church and my how easy it is to get distracted by them.

Then Aron fell down and bruised his shin, and Ivan cried about not liking iced tea, and the copier wouldn’t copy my handouts, and wouldn’t staple them once it did copy, and I knelt down on my knees in the nursery and collated and stapled 20 three page handouts for my class by hand (with a lot of help from Kelly Mutter the nursery coordinator) and I was a little worried that I’d be late but I wasn’t “flustery” anymore because none of the “getting there” mattered.

Being there did.

And I felt my eyes getting a little wet
because I knew that there were much bigger things going on
than lateness and new policies and frustrated pastors
and iced tea and chicken sandwiches.

I was certainly there, I was ready, I was completely armed for this battle. I had people praying for me, I had studied, I love the subject of parenting and raising up little warriors for Christ and I couldn’t wait to tell those young couples about the great things they are capable of as stewards of little souls full of potential greatness.

And it went well. The information flowed, the analogies came to me easily and the stories didn’t take too long to tell and I got done on time and a couple people thanked me for what I said and I know that though getting there was much more difficult than expected…kind of like parenting sometimes…it was worth it.

PS – I sent Owen’s pastor an e-mail when I got home from church and explained what happened on our end and apologized for being late and getting a little “flustery” and such. He responded right away and said it was okay and he understands, and he gave me his phone number so that if we are ever in a bind like that we can let him know. Communication is good. Real, real good.

PPS – I asked Owen the next day if my little bit of defensive explanation (or talking back) to the pastor (who is a martial arts instructor) embarrassed him at all.  He said, “No, I was just afraid of what you were going to do to pastor Chris.”  Which really made me laugh.  I guess he has a healthy respect for my expectations.