It was 2:04 a.m. the last time I looked at the clock. The same pattern had been occurring all night long. Change and feed the girl. Rock her until her eyes are closed and she's had a consistent breathing pattern for at least 10 minutes. Put her down carefully in her crib. Sneak away and snuggle blindly into bed next to wide-awake husband who can't sleep, either. Let 5 minutes pass before the eye piercing wailing ensues. Repeat pattern all night long until eye balls feel like they were scrubbed with sand paper and I'm ready to pay the neighbor's five year old granddaughter to entertain my cranky, awake infant with her jazz dance routine so I can lay down for a second and suck down an extra large coffee with a straw.
There was just no way in all of my human powers that we were going to make it to church today. Normally, that would simply disappoint me, and then I would move on. But today is different. Today is the single most important holiday of the christian faith. Today is Easter. My Baptist guilt is telling me to suck it up, put on a bonnet and triumphantly hum, "He Lives!" whenever I feel my eyes closing. My husband told me to take of myself and cranky kid by staying home-God would understand. I've learned to co-habitate with my Baptist guilt, but that listening to my husband is always more logical. Thus, I'm sitting in my spit-up covered pj's, typing one-handed while the girl gurgles on my shoulder at 9 a.m. instead of sitting in a sanctuary.
For a moment, I was terribly sad. I feel like I've been in my house for all eternity, watching others live their lives from my front porch window. I wasn't going to get to celebrate with my church family the historical event that changed my life. I wasn't going to get to rejoice in the sunshine with my daughter- or dress her up in that cute, little Easter dress that was all laid out last night. I wasn't going to be able to honor the Lord as I should.
And then I took a sip of the coffee my loving husband brought me before he left for church, stared at my kid's pretty face and laughed at myself. Congregational life is an important one to maintain- we were created for community, thus, we need elements of church life in order to remain encouraged in our faith and with each other. But it's not the mainstay. That's Christ, and Him alone. And we got Him. Right here in our house. Ellie was given to us as our kid because, for some reason, God believed we were the perfect ones to show Himself to her. I've got to trust that, even on Easter at home in dirty clothes, our home is the perfect place to show who Christ is to my daughter.
So, we're getting changed into clean clothes. We're opening the curtains to let the sunshine in. We're reading the story of the our risen Lord. We're dancing around to the Godspell soundtrack-hey, God must have known of Ellie's deep-seeded appreciation for musical theater or she certainly would not have been my daughter. And we're rejoicing with all those who celebrate today, in spirit, even if our bodies just couldn't make it out the door.
Happy Easter.