Sunday mornings are all about timing. Timing the nap, snack, and dressing, perfectly so that we can be ready on time and Emma will be fed, rested, and ready to go so that we can avoid major tantrums at church. Between that there's the fact that I need to have myself dressed and ready, the bag packed (I've made the mistake of not making time for this step and paid the price in the middle of hour #1), and find time to make food for myself. If I get behind schedule, Emma decides she doesn't feel like napping, or we can't find a shoe--chances are, we're going to be late. Because Sam works on some Sundays, I am doing this by myself sporadically throughout the month. In summary, I am yet to master it.
I'm not saying we don't have good weeks. Weeks where Sam is home and the planets align in such a way that we are able complete everything that needs to be done so that we can arrive early. The thing is, it's not just about arriving early. Getting there is only the first hurtle. Getting through Sacrament meeting with a toddler who's either really tired and ornery or really energetic is a challenge but, for me the hardest part is nursery. I thought nursery was going to make church so much better but, it's actually become the part I dread the most. Emma HATES nursery. When the closing song starts to play in Sacrament Meeting, that's Emma's cue to start letting me know she has no intention of going to nursery. When we get there she claws into my arms and begs me not to leave her there. I've tried the whole "tough love" thing by just leaving her there to cry it out and get used to it. Unfortunately, Emma is a very stubborn little girl and will cry the entire time. I don't have the heart to do that to her (or the nursery workers). Sam and I usually take turns in the nursery and sometimes only make it through second hour before we decide to call it a day.
The best parts about church nowadays come in small moments. Listening to Emma "sing along" with the hymns, hearing her loud "AMEN!" after every prayer, teaching her about the sacrament by reminding her to think about Jesus as it's passed, and feeling the spirit as I listen to the speakers undistributed for the tiniest, sweetest moment while Sam entertains Emma with a book. Because I am craving those precious spiritual moments when I attend each week (and even throughout the week), I appreciate them and treasure them that much more as they come.
Lately after church, we've made it a habit to go for a long walk or drive somewhere beautiful. Last week we drove through Parawon Canyon and walked on the Henderson Trail. The green pines against the red mountains made for an absolutely breathtaking setting. The trail was damp from fresh fallen rain and the cool air was welcome after an hour of hanging out in the crowded nursery.
Emma freed all of her pent up energy on the trail going up and winding hills by herself at her insistence. She copied everything Sam did as we walked-when he held a stick above his head, she held a stick above her head. When he tossed a rock into the water, she tossed a rock into the water. At one point we stumbled upon a hollow tree trunk which Emma declared was her house. She played inside and got a kick out of me knocking on her "door" to see if she was home.
Taking these walks is another way that we feel close to God and renew our spirits on the Sabbath Day. It's not always easy to get to church and by the time we leave we are often exhausted but, we need those sweet moments of refreshment each week. After church, I think about those moments while we walk in the trees and my heart and spirit swell, filling to the brim. Those moments remind me of why Sunday is so special and important. As we spend time together in nature, we reflect and feel truly grateful for all that we have. I love those still, quiet hours we spend together every week.
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