Advent marks our return to church on a near-regular basis. The first Sunday is a bit dicey as I scurry around screeching, in search of tights without holes, the elusive “church shoes,” and black pants that fit me — because last year’s black pants don’t. Someday my kids will tell their therapists about damage incurred while getting dressed for church.
Last Sunday we had it all together — as in new tights, cheap patent leather flats and new black pants from The Gap. As we settled in for our post-worship repast of broken chips and leftover salsa, I asked my daughter what they talked about in Sunday school.
She sighed, rolling her eyes and said, “Ah, Jesus — again.”
On that note, I’m linking two Christmas posts I wrote a while back. Recently Barb brought referenced them in a comment, and I went back and read them. I confess, I liked them. They reminded me to get over myself and stop trying to make it all look perfect.
And I need to be reminded — again.
Christmas Post 1.
Christmas Post 2.