Raising Magnolias

Because it's never too late for happily ever after…

Why I love Mondays.

I was walking up the stairs into the Sanctuary. She’s seven. She stops me.

“Miss Myra Katherine? Are you staying for the whole church?”

I look at her. Confused.

“Are you staying till the end?”

And I laugh. And I reassure her. Yes. I am staying.

We are staying.

And my whole mood brightens.

I struggle when my children are with their Dad. I grew up filling an entire pew. Even now, up by 7 bodies, we still squeeze into one pew.

One pew in the back that is, because you never know when my brother and I are going to start laughing.

Inappropriately.

So I don’t like going by myself. I don’t like sitting by myself. I don’t like singing or praying or listening or hearing or praising.

By myself.

So sometimes, I leave.

And evidently I’m not too discreet about it.

And when I stay, I sometimes look around at all the men. The married men. Do not judge me. I’m not looking at them like “that”. I’m looking at them like, wow, here are these men who love the Lord and love their wives and provide for their children and I think not about the verse we are reading; not about the song we are singing; I think Oh. My. Gosh.

And I panic. Just a little.

And I think somebody give me a cat already. Cause I may as well go ahead and start collecting them.

(No offense to my little cat lover friends!).

And the “Oh. My. Gosh.” is a strange feeling because I specifically remember telling my mother that I would never consider getting married again.

Ever. Taylor Swift alert. Like, Ever.

But we’ve been separated for almost 15 months and yes, still waiting for the end but looking ahead, I may have changed my mind.

And why did I just use the “m” word. Good grief. I might scare off the 3 single people in the tri-state area who possibly love the Lord and have a job.

Not that I can judge the whole job thing, ’cause, well, you know. I don’t have one either. But all the more reason that he should have one.

I mean good grief, how else is he going to pay for my dinner? And my ring.

That was a joke. Well not really.

Earlier I’ve shared that I’m not a good cook, I don’t mow the lawn. I hate putting gas in my car and here’s a new one.

I don’t carry a purse.

Because I fully expect you to pay for dinner.

And my ring.

And while we’re on the subject of loving the Lord and buying me a ring, did you know that there’s something called Christian/Other?

Anybody know what that means?

Christian/Protestant, I understand. That’s me.

Christian/Catholic, I understand. That’s 93.7% of my friends in Fremont.

But Christian/Other?

No thank you.

Well maybe. I mean, I guess if you make a lot of money. A lot. A lot. And you’re old. Really, really old.

Oh relax. That really was a joke.

I just thought we needed a little humor after my “I didn’t get the job because nobody likes me blog.” 🙂

OK, so about 500 words ago, I was talking about why I like Mondays. Actually, I think I was talking about why I don’t like Sundays but y’all know I tend to wander.

On Mondays dads go to work. As a SAHM, it’s normal to be with my kids; sans dad. It’s school and playdates and craft time and reading time and quiet time and I love the routine of Mondays and I love pretending that their Dad is at work (well, technically he is at work, but you know what I mean).

Saturdays are for couples.

Sundays are for families.

But Mondays are Moms-rock-the-routine days.

Mondays start the beating of the drum; the rhythm of the week.

We wake; we snuggle; we dress; we eat; we linger; we linger too long; we rush; we rush too fast; we check school lunches; we laugh at french toast sticks and mixed vegetables (not kidding) and we stuff backpacks and we search for the one pair of socks that are the only pair of perfect socks and we sign the papers and send the checks and we take a deep breath and we pray.

You are a blessing. Go. Be a Blessing.

You have the mind of Christ. You can learn all things.

THe Lord bless you and keep you and make His face to shine upon you.

Yeah. Yeah. OK, Mom.

One day Sundays will be easier. Maybe. Hopefully.

But today I choose to rejoice in a perfectly Manic Monday! Knowing fully that “this is the day that the Lord has made.” We may not fill a whole pew, but we will fill this house with lots of love and crazy joy!

Happy Monday, Y’all!

.

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