Going to the Christmas service at our church didn't go so smoothly today.
Walking up the steps to the sanctuary, I felt like calling out, "Merry F'ing Christmas" to everyone.
Very festive. It's what Tiny Tim would have said, right?
So here's what happened. Dyami went out to buy some last-minute Christmas gifts (no, not because he procrastinated, but because both of us found it hard to get gifts this year...too exhausting). We had decided to go to the 3 pm service, since it would be less crowded then the other afternoon service, but still before Lucy's bedtime.
I asked him to get back home by 2 pm. Because even though the service is less crowded, it is still packed. So we needed to leave by 2:15 or 2:20 at the latest.
Except I didn't actually say that last part. I mean, wasn't it obvious? (For those of you unmarried people--things are never as obvious as they seem).
So he got home at 2:30 after very successful and helpful shopping. I had managed to get ready with Lucy in the sling. And right as Dyami pulled in, she fell asleep.
We've been trying hard not to wake her from naps. But we had no choice. There were no other good services that worked with her bedtime.
So she wasn't too happy on the car ride over. We managed to make it into the church parking lot without getting to an accident. That was an achievement.
I calmed her down (calming myself down was another matter) and put her into the sling.
Then Dyami and I had a fight about something somewhat mundane.
I stormed off towards the church. He followed, frustrated. We hurried up the steps into the sanctuary. Go into the building.
Did I mention how I'd known the service would be packed? There was no room.
It occurred to me, moving through the aisle, that my post about feeling like Mary was very apt (with a bit of grandiosity thrown in). No room! Mom and baby and no room!
I started crying and rushed out of the sanctuary. I went into the cry room. Amusingly, this room was designed for crying babies, not moms, but it works in a pinch.
I managed to get a hold of myself after a minute and went back out. We tried upstairs in the balcony. Still no room--until we tried the left side, and found two seats in the first row!
And I'd forgotten I mostly stand and rock Lucy during church services to woo her to sleep.
Another happy ending: she did fall asleep, so she got her nap anyway.
And I was crying during a lot of the service, but I wasn't mad at Dyami anymore.
And the children's choir sang, and that made me a little weepy too. (In years past, I've thought the children were a little cheesy. This year I was completely enthralled. Look at the wee choir! Omigod they're so cute. In a few years, Lucy will be up there. Sob, sob.
And funnily enough, worship is always more meaningful when I'm poor in spirit. We sang "In the Bleak Midwinter": the last verse starts--"What should I bring him, empty as I am?"
I could quite identify with that verse.
Merry Christmas, f-ing or otherwise. God bless us, every one.