Maybe it's that I rarely got myself and the kids to Sunday service in the summer (my particular struggle). Maybe it's that I was praying and thinking about prayer and personal spirituality a lot over the last two weeks in preparation for the class on prayer I began leading today. Maybe it's that I "turned over a new leaf" by releasing all of those good, but becoming a burden, library books last Thursday. Maybe it's that I read a thoughtful essay on today's Gospel reading over at Dylan's lectionary blog and then Father D. took another tack in his sermon that enriched it further.
Whatever it may be, for me this morning the service actually, surprisingly, was a time for being present to what was taking place and to the sermon. That would be, in between juggling kids on my lap, silently refereeing elbow-throwing, and encouraging some participation (stand, sit, kneel, find the hymn). I managed to participate in "Lift up your hearts / We lift them up to the Lord" throughout the service until about two minutes before the "sending forth" blessing. In a pause, Son1 nearly lost control of an item that would have clattered very loudly, and I lost all patience with my wiggly kids thanks to my lack of breakfast. Arrggggh! It's okay, this happens, and I breathed deeply for a bit. We headed home and ate lunch. Much better.
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