For the last 3 weeks I have been battling a mild throat virus that sends me to bed early every night. Because of that, along with holiday travel, I have not been able to keep up with one of my favorite pastimes – writing.
I plan to head to bed early tonight ..again.. but before I do, I thought I would share some of what’s going on with Mrs. Pastor.
The best compliment I got this week was from a friend of mine who said, “Rachel, you’re just real.” She said it to me, not necessarily to compliment me, but to make me feel better about the last week of Christmas pageant performance fiascos. You see, I have two sons, 6 and 8-years-old. They run circles around me, and the rest of the town.
The youngest had his Sunday School performance last Sunday and spent the entire program switching spots with his friend, turning around backwards, making faces, giggling. He performed, alright, just not any of his assigned songs or speaking parts. Let’s just say I stopped taking pictures midway through and started sweating profusely.
Then came the Wednesday night rehearsal for my older son’s performance. By the end of the evening, his shepherd’s staff had been confiscated and he was spoken to about the proper use of a shepherd’s staff. (Beating one’s fellow shepherds is NOT proper use of one’s staff.)
As you can imagine, I was feeling like a failure. Things could be worse, I know, but no parent likes to hear or witness their child doing something wrong. And in those moments of failure, God likes to send you his messengers of grace.
This week, God’s messenger was my friend. After sharing with her my frustrations with the boys, she said, “You are real.” The parenting things you are going through, the kids you have. They are real. You are real.
I remember a church friend once said that when she saw me wrangling my herd of kiddos in the pew, it made her feel better about her own frustrations as a parent. So this week, I will begrudgingly thank God for these embarrassing, real moments. They keep me humble as a parent and they open the door for others to see that even Mrs. Pastor’s kids can be stinkers.
Yours, Mrs. Pastor