Sunday, June 26, 2011

A Million Sundays

Sundays have always been a nucleus for our family.

Barring illness or vacation, there is no question of where we will be on Sunday morning. There is not a decision to make on a week-by-week basis: to go to church, or not to go?

We go. We're there. Settled.

But it wasn't just about church; Sunday was our day of rest. We served together. We were a team.

Breakfast was fun: usually cinnamon rolls. Sometimes donuts.

Robb got the boys dressed and ready, allowing me peace in the bathroom without little hands and questions.

We have a strong community in our church family. Our spirits rested with them.

After church, we usually ate pizza at Big Bill's, followed by naps all around. And I do mean Naps All Around.

We finished the day with dinner at my parents' house: my mom's great cooking, a table of inviting conversation, and the tradition of togetherness every Sunday night. Usually topped off with a competitive episode of The Amazing Race, when in season.

And then Robb died.... and I couldn't do Sundays.

Friends took my sons to church, as I wanted my boys to keep the routine and the value. But I couldn't join them. I tried: three times, unsuccessfully. Panic struck each time, moments after my arrival. Each time, friends escorted me to my car, drove me home, and helped me to bed before I collapsed. Afternoons were not restful; they were recovery.

I couldn't do it.

I remember thinking: it is the weight of a million Sundays that will be the end of me.

Well, my friends, today was a new day.

Peanut Butter Captain Crunch for breakfast. Little boys in khaki shirts and striped polos. Tyler all over my makeup drawer as I prepared for the morning. Arguments over toothpaste and flip flops.

But we made it out the door. And they sang on the way to church. The VBS sound track is a gift to my spirit as my children sing lyrics like,

"I am not forgotten, God knows my name..."

"God is watching, watching over you..."

"I have a Maker, he formed my heart..."

"Then sings my soul, my Savior God, to Thee,
How great Thou art."

Our reception was warm and sweet; our church family spills with the joy of being known.

Children who are in kindergarten sit with their parents for the music portion of the service, so Tuck and I were a pair. He listened carefully, sang along, held my hand, and was my delight.

And although I still didn't last the entire worship service, I made it longer than ever before.

It was good, victorious, strong, and successful.

And I remember thinking: it is the gift of a million Sundays that will be the breath of me.


"But it was the singing that pulled me in and split me wide open." — Anne Lamott


RAS said...

This is beautiful and so true. Since the loss of my nephew, church has been so painful. Many people have been judgmental and wondered how, when we have continued to praise God, that I could not go to church. It was so hard to explain. It's been a year and I still cry the entire time. Thank you for putting into words how this feels. Until you have been through grief, I supposed people will never comprehend the feelings and emotions. Thank you for putting it into beautifully written words that I can share so that maybe people can better understand. Although we have never met, I pray for you constantly on your journey. I am so sorry for your loss.

Shirley said...

I don't know you personally, however, I have come to know your blog and follow it closely. I've prayed for you and I am so glad to hear of your accomplishments. Thank you for being so transparent in your journey. God is blessing you and me through you. May He continue to bless you.


gluten free girl in a pasta world said...

praying this is the first of your million sundays.
and the quote by Annie Lamott is so true.

my3boys said...

Here's to many more Sunday rides on that fabulous tricycle! Much love and many prayers...

stephanie garcia said...

" ... it is the gift of a million Sundays that will be the breath of me." - Amen and amen!

Terry said...

dear tricia...everytime that i see "teaching tuck and ty" in my email, my heart is happy and every time i open it and read...EVERYTIME,i have to say "well THIS is the best but alas!, not that my mind changes, i know i will be saying of the next post that IT is the best...but you know what dearest little mother of tuck and ty, i really think that i will say that this "million sundays" is the bestest![not a word, i know]. it will be a hard one to beat!
i can hear those children sweet and innocent voices singing the same sunday school choruses that the golden children sang week after week and mile after mile in the car as we were driven 33 miles by christian folk to sunday school.
those songs never left our hearts...i enjoy so much on "you tube" the singing of the "cedarmont kids"...

good for you tricia that you went to church this sunday but remember this...jeuus really understands the whole thing..he sees the heart!...glad for terry

Andrea said...

I just started reading your blogs. Beautiful. Heartbreaking. Raw, but Lovely. My dad passed away in march from brain cancer at 53 years old, and although I am not a wife, I know the heartache...the flipping upside down of your world. Each new event without them is hard...You are a courageous woman. Strong to face your fears, and conquer your "Sunday's". God is with you, He is mighty to save! He delights in you, and rejoices over you with Singing.

Maryellen said...

I am not sure if you read these comments but if you do I want you to know that me and my daughter read them all. My husband and their father died in March of this year and we are walking a very similar walk right now. Church is hard for me as well. My husband was the social butterfly and I relied heavily on his ability to talk to anyone and everyone. Tackling that alone is a daunting task for me. I just want to know where I belong now. My husband is gone along with all my dreams for tomorrow. My kids are all grown and out of the house so what now? I feel so lost.