Wearing My Sunday Best

Dear Friend C,

I haven't written for awhile.  I remember something you told me once about perspective and I had a good experience to share back with you about perspective.

I was sitting in Sacrament Meeting a few weeks ago when all of a sudden my daughter bumped one of my hair clips.  This wouldn't have to be a big deal, and for most people it might not be, but bumping one of my hair clips, that is holding an unruly (slightly curly) mane, into something presentable is a big deal.

As I was worried about what my hair might look like and thinking about how long of a walk to the bathroom it'd be to find out, I started to take stock of the rest of my appearance.

Maybe Messed Up Hair - check
Rumpled Wrinkly Clothes - check
Sweaty (and Maybe Smelly?) Armpits - check
Baby Liquids on Clothes - check
Worn Off Lipstick - check
By the time I had gone through my whole appearance, I was feeling rather disheveled.  What a great word.....but not a great feeling.

I told myself it didn't really matter what others thought about me, but I just felt like I wasn't wearing my "Sunday best".  I grew up having been taught that you wore your very best to Church and consequently the temple.  Conference talks have long since agreed.  We've been reminded to not wear flip flops or casual attire.  The standards for youth (For the Strength of Youth) says, "Through your dress and appearance, you can show that you know how precious your body is.  You can show that you are a disciple of Jesus Christ and that you love Him."  I wanted Jesus Christ to know that I loved Him.  I wanted to follow Him.  I wanted to be His disciple.

So as I sat in Sacrament Meeting feeling......disheveled.....I kind of muttered to myself,

"I'm sorry, Savior."

I truly felt it.  Despite having dressed and prepared that morning for my Sunday best, I felt bad it hadn't translated to sitting during the Sacrament with my dress reflecting that I was HIS disciple.

Or did it?

I realized that my hair clip had been bumped, because my daughter was climbing on my lap to sit and snuggle close and feel of my love for her.  Same with the rumpled clothes.....two kids being given attention, showing them that they mattered, loving them as the Savior would have and parenting them as their Heavenly Father would have.

I was extra hot and sweaty from having arrived at church alone with my two children.  I had been responsible to carry in the baby and his car seat in one arm with a cookie sheet filled with materials for my calling in the Primary, my daughter's Primary talk, and my purse all in the other arm.  Mix in I live in a hot, humid climate and yes I had definitely raised my core body temp with the mini workout.  Why was I alone?  I was supporting my husband as he had attended an early morning meeting then immediately sat down to play music at the organ as he was responsible for the organ music that day.  Double duty, not a usual thing, which is why I wasn't used to doing all of this alone.  Supporting my husband complete two assignments is definitely a worthy cause that I think the Savior approves of.

I know I haven't really posted the story of my Son yet, but if you've been with me at all, then you know that I've posted about infertility and adoption.....Son was a surprise miracle.  His journey here was something else, but he is here now, and so I feel a great sense of gratitude and responsibility for him.  Babies have all sorts of things coming out of their mouth, but I'd rather have whatever concoction of ickiness than nothing at all with no baby.  I'm fulfilling my divine role as a mother, nurturing and caring for one of Heavenly Father's spirit children.  All part of The Plan, the same plan that the Savior volunteered for.

My lipstick was nearly gone by the time we got to church because as we were driving, my daughter was reviewing her Primary talk.  She was practicing re-telling a story and I was coaching her on the right things to say and in what order.  Also, I was demonstrating how to talk into a microphone.  I had clenched up my fist to pretend it was the microphone and was showing that there should be space in-between her lips and the microphone.  Then I put my lips on my hand to show her that when you spoke that way, the words were not clear (and not hygienic).  This resulted in a loss of lipstick and no chance to reapply, but I was teaching my child.   I'm raising two future missionaries to preach of His Church, His Gospel, to be His disciples just like I am now.

So while to the average eye I was rumpled, messy, wet, not pristine or perfect, my perspective changed and I knew that I was okay.  Better than okay.  I WAS giving my Savior, my absolute Sunday best.  Every single one of my actions was connected to building up His Church.

And isn't that about the BEST way to spend a Sunday?

I love you.

His disciple,


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