Next time won’t you sing with me?

Photo by jamie3529gq

All right, folks. It has been a little heavy this week, what with my FAIL as a nursery worker and the abandoned puppies. So let’s lighten it up a little. What say we play a game? Angie did this great ABC meme on her blog the other day, and I thought it would be a perfect way to round out this week. So here goes…

A - Age: I’m 30. Mentally and emotionally, though, I often hover somewhere between 14 and 19. And then there’s the contradicting fact that I was possibly born a middle-aged mom. I guess that makes me…30.

B - Bed Size: Queen, finally! Mark and I slept in a full-size bed for 9 years. Add in two overweight cats, and it was close quarters, so we were so very excited to get a new bed last fall!

C - Chore You Hate: Sweeping floors. I know I say that I’m giving up on perfect, but holding a broom brings out my perfectionist tendencies with a vengeance. Why is it so difficult to get every cat hair, dust bunny and Cheerio off my floor?! (Just so you know, my solution to this issue is to NOT SWEEP. Because that makes sense.)

D - Dad's Name: Tom. But his real name is James, like his father before him, my brother, my father-in-law and my brother-in-law. Out of all those men, my brother is the only one who goes by James. The rest were and are Keith, Jim and Brian. Weird, huh?

E - Essential Start Your Day Item: Can I say a chocolate donut? No? Okay, then, a shower. If I don’t take a shower first thing, I will lounge through the whole day until I have accomplished exactly nothing and look like I’ve got something against personal hygiene.

F - Favorite TV Show: This is a hard one! Current favorite is Chuck. Don’t make me say it again – you should be watching this show. All-time favorite is Gilmore Girls. Don’t mock it until you’ve tried it.

G - Gold or Silver: Do you think this refers to jewelry? My wedding rings are gold, but I like silver, too. I don’t know – I’m not much of a jewelry person. (Although I have been trying to accessorize more lately. Sunday was quite an experiment – it involved earrings, a bracelet and a scarf – cuh-razy!)

H - Height: 5’7”, but I used to be 5’8”. I’m not sure what happened…

I - Instruments You Play(ed): I play the piano. Not much lately, but I used to be pretty good.

I also played the bass clarinet in middle school. I wanted to play the saxophone, because that’s cool. But my parents couldn’t afford to buy one, so I had to play a school instrument. And that’s what the school had. Turns out it wasn’t too bad. Because I was the only one (big surprise, right?), I had to sit with the trombone section (boys) and compete against them for chairs. And because the trombone is considerably harder to play than the bass clarinet, I always got to be first chair. Take that, saxophones.

J - Job Title: Public Relations Specialist. Yes, it’s very special.

K - Kid(s): Annalyn, our feisty, stubborn, charming and adorable 17-month-old daughter. (And yes, I’m officially just calling her by her name on this blog. I can’t handle anything more complicated than that!)

L - Living Arrangement: Small, old, falling apart ranch with one bathroom and no basement. I’m not kidding about the falling apart – you can’t find one room in the house that doesn’t have something broken. But these days, I’m just thankful to have a house.

M - Mom's Name: Alice. She’s Allie to Annalyn and all my cousin’s kids.

N - Nicknames: My high school friends called me Mare Bear for a while. Smitty calls me Blondie. And my parents had the nerve to call me Herb as a child (it’s a long story).
O - Overnight Hospital Stays Other Than Birth: No, but that was one heck of a hospital stay!

P - Pet Peeve: Whistling, unless it’s done by my dad, Smitty or Triple. And then I can endure it.

Q - Quotes You Like: I don't know! Help me out! What's your favorite quote?

R - Right or Left-Handed: Right.

S - Siblings: One younger brother and a younger cousin who grew up with us.

T - Time You Wake Up: I set the alarm for 6:30 a.m. I usually get up about 6:50 a.m. Snooze is a wonderful and dangerous thing.

U - Ultimate Dessert: One of those crazy, 3,000-calorie Death by Chocolate cakes you can get at most restaurants. You know, the kind most people say is “too rich” and they “couldn’t possibly eat it all.” Mmmm-hmm.

V - Vegetable You Dislike: Carrots. If I try to eat them raw, without dip, I literally start to gag a little. And I keep chewing and chewing and chewing…and just can’t choke them down. It’s ugly.

W - Ways You Run Late: So many ways! I’m always late! I hate it, but it’s true. Please, no lectures about how it’s disrespectful and rude. I know. Okay?

X - X-rays You've Had: Lots of lung x-rays for bronchitis/flu-type stuff. It’s pretty much a yearly occurrence. Oh, I also had my spine x-rayed when I visited the chiropractor last year.

Y - Yummy Food You Make: I wish I could say some gourmet, homemade meal. But it seems like most people love my brownies. Made from a mix. A store-brand mix. What can I say? They ARE good!

Z - Zoo Animal: Monkeys and bears, I think. Although I loved seeing the giraffes up close last fall in Nashville.

How about you? Do you know your ABCs?

I’m having a hard time being “faithful with a few things.”

When I was in college, I felt that God called me to ministry. In the years since, I’ve struggled to figure out exactly what that means, what God has planned for me, where I belong, how I can serve.

Recently, my struggle has been more about learning to be content with where I am right now, figuring out how I can serve where I am.

As part of my endeavor to get more involved in ministry in my current life instead of waiting for someday to get here, I’ve started writing to a missionary wife that our church supports. I’ve mentioned before that I sing in the choir. Also, Mark and I have started a small group with four other couples.

These ministries are all things I signed up for, things that I have some interest in, some skill or spiritual gift for doing.

The other ministry Mark and I participate in is not so voluntary and not so suited to our strengths. We serve in the toddler nursery.

Every Sunday morning that we go to church, our daughter is taken care of by several fantastic nursery workers. So it’s only fair that we take our turn caring for other families’ children. And while Mark does not enjoy it at all (although he’s great at vacuuming up the hundreds of Cheerios left on the floor after snacktime and following me around with a box of tissues during cold season), I do. I like holding the kids who cry when their parents leave and showing the new kids all the toys we have to play with. I don’t love changing their diapers, but I like hanging out with other people's kiddos for a couple hours once a month.

But you sure wouldn’t know this based on last Sunday. Or based on the fourth Sunday of February.

Because we forgot to work in the nursery.

Just plain forgot! After I realized what we’d done last month – or not done, as the case might be – I was mortified. I e-mailed our nursery director and apologized all over myself. I expressed my extreme regret and promised not to let it happen ever again. She was gracious and forgiving, and all was forgotten.

So forgotten, in fact, that last weekend, the fourth Sunday in March, I forgot to work in the nursery again.

In my defense, I had out-of-town friends visiting, went to a murder mystery party that went way past my bedtime and sang with choir both services on Sunday. But I knew that. I knew how crazy the weekend would be, and I knew it included nursery. I even told Chelley that when we were making plans for the weekend.

But when it came down to it, I was exhausted. Teresa’s birthday party went late, and when I dragged myself out of bed Sunday morning to get to choir practice, nursery didn’t even cross my mind.

It didn’t cross my mind until much later that night, after choir, after lunch with my friends, after a nap and after Bible study.

But now I can’t stop thinking about it. I can’t stop thinking about how there’s just no way to fix this. No apology will take back the stress that our nursery director felt as she covered for us at the last minute, and no sincere words of regret will change the view she now has of us. And I can’t stop thinking that I should get it together! I should be more organized! I should, I should, I should!

And I can’t help but wonder if maybe I’ll never find myself in a full-time ministry role, because I can’t even be faithful with the small things.

I’m not saying that to get reassurances that everyone makes mistakes. And I realize that the title of my blog implies that I am no longer a perfectionist with sky-high standards for herself. But at least in this instance, I can’t let myself off the hook. I don’t know how. And I don’t know how anyone – or Anyone – else could, either.