I am a 30 something married woman with three small children. I am tired of living a life full of hustle and bustle. I want to slow down to smell the daisies, or roses, or whatever flowers are blooming at the time I stop to smell them. I am ready to make big changes in my life. I am ready to make my life more simple.
This is the story of how I simplified my life.
Saturday, August 13, 2011
So it was Sunday Morning
Once a week I take a moment to interrupt my simple life journey to share with you some extra bonus material to make you smile. Enjoy!
I have a bad habit.
I take after my mother and grandfather.
Right in the middle of a party, there they are, both propped up in sitting positions on the couch, heads hanging heavily downward, drool creeping out the sides of their mouths. Sleeping. They are like babies; they can fall asleep anywhere.
I may not be as bad as them, but when conditions are just right, I join them.
So it was Sunday morning, and there I sat in church.
My preacher’s voice, so low and calming.
The perfect environment, my body was telling me, trying to lull me off into subconsciousness.
No, I will not fall asleep. I will not fall asleep.
Take notes, make a list, look at people's hairstyles. Oh no! It has me in its grip.
I put my head down toward my lap, hanging my hair over my face to hide what my hand was going to do next.
Slap! My face suddenly felt pain.
I looked up and back behind me. Everyone was still. I don’t think anyone saw. They may have heard, but they didn’t know what they heard.
I looked at the pastor and tried opening my eyes as wide as they would go. Yes, bug eyes will do the trick.
My lids. Blink. Are so. Blink. Heavy. Blink. Blink. Must close. Bliiinnkkk. (That's a blink in slow motion.)
I was out.
REM- I love you.
Suddenly, my subconscious began to signal to me to try and get my attention. "Janna! Janna!"
"Shut up. Leave me alone," I sternly reprimanded myself for disturbing myself.
And then my ears perked up. The pastor's voice was drawing near. I began shifting in my seat, my eyes still closed. “Wake up, Janna. Wake up,” I was yelling to myself inside my head.
His voice was no longer soft and calm. It was loud, like surround sound around me.
My heavy lids flew open violently. I was a little dizzy. WOW! he was right there in front of me, maybe five feet away, and our eyes locked. His eyes were like magical lasers. They made my eyes hot and watery.
I sat up quickly, and began passionately nodding in agreement with what he was saying.
But he knew.
And I knew he knew.
And he knew I knew he knew.
It was crazy.
The worst insult to a speaker. I could never look him in the eyes again. Oh, the shame. I would look to the side of him or maybe at his forehead or maybe at his Adam's apple, but never in his eyes. I lost the privilege.
Church ended and we all filed out slowly. But not me. I was jumping over pews so to get out before the pastor took his stance at the exit. I flew through the air like on Matrix. Everyone was frozen but me. And I was wearing a long, black trench coat.
Confession. I need to confess. I will call my mother.
“Mom, I was sleeping in church and the pastor saw me. I am sure of it,” I spewed out as quickly as I could. There I said it. Forgiveness flow over me.
“Janna, I cannot believe you,” she responded sternly. I knew what was coming. My reprimanding was about to be laid on me as thick as thick can get. It was what I deserved. I prepared myself to hear it, to take it. Scold me mother. It is what I need. I stood up straight, lifted up my chin, and as she continued, I listened.
“If you are going to sleep in church,” she said very seriously, firmly,
“You need to sit in the back where the preacher can’t see you.”