I'll just say when I very gingerly laid back down at 5:30 the cool sheet felt extra good against my face and when I woke up again at 7:30 I was wiped completely out.
Most Sunday mornings involve complete and total chaos getting out the door (when you are a pastor's wife who gets your kids and yourself ready solo every week you get an extra dose of pre-church "excitement"), but then valuable times of learning, listening, worship, and fellowship with our church family. This is a very important part of our week.
But this Sunday the kids, who as usual woke up after my husband was already off to church, and I stayed in together and had a sick day. And those two took the best care of me!
When my Superman pajama clad boy with some serious bedhead sleepily joined my daughter and me on the couch, I told him Mommy had [thrown up and etc.] in the middle of the night and we were going to have to stay in from church today. He said something in his sleepy voice that I couldn't understand - I thought he said something about being gone. He looked up at me, pointing up, and said, "No, God - God up in the sky. He will heal it."
And there was my reminder about faith for the day. Maybe he'll be a pastor one day like his dad and Paw Paw, unless he goes with the current plan of being a superhero (though in my personal opinion many pastors are unsung superheroes, but that's a different blog for a different day!). I loved his cut and dry take on the matter.
I put on Little Women because I think it's one of the most cozy and beautiful Christmas season movies of all times, and sipped on a cup of tea. Though my daughter never makes it until the end she absolutely adores the first hour or so of the movie. And my little guy even made it through a lot of it.
After awhile, Little Women went off and Max and Ruby went on. And I dozed off. Some rustling of kitchen drawers made me stir, and I asked if anyone needed anything. My daughter said she was looking for one of her aprons, and I told her there was one hanging on a hook on my apron holder. A few minutes later she came over and I sleepily tied her apron strings, then dozed back off.
A few minutes after that she tapped me on the head and said sweetly, "If you want, there's a snack ready for you." And sure enough, she had put a string cheese and a cup of water on the same tray I serve her snacks on. It was on the end table by the love seat I was resting on. And there and then I had my reminder about kindness for the day. Hours later after my husband was gone again for an evening service, I thanked her once more for doing that, and told her how much it meant to me. She smiled, hugged me again and said, "Well, I know you would do the same for me." And I wanted to cry.
But I didn't. Instead I upgraded my regular toast to toast with peanut butter and honey, and my tea for a cup of weak cocoa, served her some toast and cocoa with marshmallows on the tray, and the three of us snuggled up once again, this time to watch Polar Express. We watched it from start to finish cuddled up, still in our pajamas, and it was magic.
Now the kids are tucked into bed and though I still feel weak, the toast has stayed in and I hope by tomorrow I should be good as new. I missed our church family, as did my kids, and we can't wait until Wednesday to see them. I am looking forward to hopefully eating something besides toast tomorrow. I'm pretty tired, and will head to bed soon. But I will take to sleep sweet memories of this day and the two little caregivers who showed me faith, kindness, and lots and lots of love.
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