If you regularly arrive to church late in the room that I am in, I probably know that. Since my post is located at the back of the room, and since I generally have to be there when the services begin, I have likely noticed you and your family and/or friends looking around, trying to find a seat during the second or third (or later) song.
I typically arrive at church at 8:00-ish a.m. on a Sunday morning. Our services begin at 9:30 and 11:00, so I’m usually there with plenty of time to spare. To get there at 8:00-ish, I typically set my alarms (I always set two) for 6:30, which means I will actually be out of bed by 6:45-50.
Except for yesterday morning, when one of the members on our team called around 8:00 a.m. to let me know she was running late, and that phone call was, in fact, my very own wake up call (despite the fact that I am certain that I set those two alarms). I had that crazy I’ve-overslept-oh-crap feeling and jumped in the shower. Consequently, I arrived at church at 8:45 or so, but, of course, only a handful of people knew that I was late.
I was informed by Little Drummer Boy that yesterday was the first time I’ve ever been late to church. I think he might be right. I felt really crazy for a good part of the morning, but thankfully, the morning wasn’t really crazy.
PapaBear told me that he thought things like this often happen to keep us humble, and I was also thinking a similar thought as I was getting ready: that it’s not about me… yes, I take what I do at the church quite seriously, I strive to do my best, and I think what we’re doing is important. However, what actually happens at my church on Sundays ultimately isn’t about me. Yesterday morning was a good reminder of this, but also a reminder of how awesome our team is, and how much I enjoy working with them.