Sunday for a Mormon mom

Some may find it hard to believe, but the gal I am at church on Sunday’s is not always the gal I am the other six days of the week.  And while I strive to merge my “two personalities” into one….I fail most of the time.  But I’ve recently come to accept it.  I am who I am.  Yes, constantly striving to be like my Savior and most of the time seeming to come up short, but nonetheless, still trying.

For those of you out there who find my split personality acknowledgment beyond annoying, please let me explain.  More importantly, let me help you understand that we all, at one time or another in our lives, have the same exact issue as I do.  And it’s okay.  Really, it is.

There is a reason why Sunday has been separated in the eyes of God for us.  It is the ever popular “Day of Rest.”  For us Mormon Women, that may seem like a far fetching definition…but who is to blame for that?  Yes, I’ve found myself cleaning up breakfast dishes, doing last minute laundry for church, washing what seems to be endless heads of lil’ girls and then putting in various bows and clips and ponytails to complete their looks of utter cuteness. And yes, I think to myself, “Day of Rest, my foot!”  But it is what it is.  And when I walk though the chapel doors of my church I look at my family with a smile.  Yes, the smile may only last for a minute or two before one of my children starts to act like a monkey and falls off the pew while reaching for a gold fish cracker…but that smile….it existed.  And I relish it’s existence…short as it may have been.

Then the opening hymn starts to be played on the organ.  And I hear the sounds of my favorite song filling the air all around me.  After a time, I listen to the sacrament being blessed…those words….those beautiful words hold my heart….as I so desperately try to hold on to the child that is wanting to dance and sing Primary songs in between the pews.  She calms down as I gently whisper to her what the bread and water mean.  I tell her of Christ.  I tell her how much He loves her and wants her to sit and be still so that she can feel His love for her through the gift of the Holy Ghost.  She listens and again, that smile is back on my face.

Before I know it, speakers that have been assigned to talk to us are up at the microphone.  The share their testimonies of the gospel with us. They encourage us to be like Christ, to keep His commandments, to live as He would live….and so much more. I’m grateful that my oldest child is paying attention and that my middle child is quietly coloring next to me and my husband. The baby boy is being held by my friend behind me, loving every minute of it.  And yes….you guessed it….my smile has emerged again.

By the time sacrament meeting is over, it’s off the the rest of our church meetings.  For the next two hours I enjoy Sunday School and Relief Society.  I laugh. I cry. I listen. I pray. I sing. I thank.  Boy, do I thank my Heavenly Father for all my blessings.

And then church is over….and it’s back home we go.

I try my very best to keep the Spirit of Church going in my home the rest of the day. And most of the time…it’s there.

Then I wake up Monday morning….and it’s back to the weekly wear and tear in our lives.  And I find myself slowly changing from “Sunday Woman” to “Rest of the Week Woman.”  Like I said, I do my best to merge the two.  But heaven knows I can’t wait for Sunday to roll around again so that I can be “Spiritually Recharged” for the other six days.

It is what it is.  And I’m grateful to just be able to recognize the difference…and more importantly…keep trying to come unto Christ.  To be like Him….


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