I walked into church on Sunday, my eyes burning from lack of sleep, and also because I'm pretty sure I forgot to drink any water the day before. To say I felt dry feels like a radical understatement.
I was just so happy to be there, both of my kids dressed, activities in hand and ready to worship. We proceeded down stairs to put my two year old in her nursery. She screamed but only for a minute. Then she was happy to play with all the toys.
My four year old and I made our way upstairs just as the service began. My heart felt the need of the Savior's presence, and I prayed silently that I would be able to engage in this service, even as I cared for my son. He doesn't like to go to Children's Church and desires to stay with me in the service. I love that he wants to be near me, but it makes it hard to feel I have any time to worship.
The opening quote was about Hope. Is our hope that God will fulfill all of our expectations? That what we desire out of life will come to be? The pastor said that God's reality is much deeper and far greater than our expectations. So when we hope, we long for God's plan to come to fruition, not our expectations.
As a parent of young children, this hit me so hard and felt so affirming. My hope is not that my days will be easy or pain-free. My hope is not in how perfectly I can parent, how squeaky clean my house is, or how much money I can make in a month. My hope is placed in something much deeper than that. I get so caught up every day in what I want my life to look like versus what it actually looks like. It is so messy right now. I don't just mean my house-- my emotions, my ability to balance everything on my plate, my parenting skills. It is all a jumbled mess of imperfection where I feel pretty out of control and know I am not fulfilling my own expectations! So when the pastor began speaking of hope being outside of myself and what I desire, and in what God actually IS accomplishing on this Earth, I felt a huge part of me relax. Hope, real hope, welled within me.
Thankful, I began to worship.
Then my four year old announced he needed to go potty. In a much better state of mind than just a few moments before, I took him to the potty, but felt anxious to return to the service. Then it happened. I heard weird sounds coming from his stall and he said, "I need new pants." I have no idea how he accomplished peeing on both the back of his pants and the front of the pant legs while simultaneously creating a giant puddle all over the floor. But in that moment I realized that part of my act of worship this morning was going to include cleaning the bathroom floor.
See what I mean? My life is messy. Somehow in that moment I was able to capture the beauty of the hope that God offers. Not hope in clean, polished, perfect behavior. But real Hope. Hope that transcends this Earth while at the same time healing the Earth.
My hope is in what God is accomplishing, not what I can accomplish. And that, brings rest to my tired, messy, dry soul.
