Ada & Church & Yesterday
Yesterday I woke up around 9. And from the minute my feet hit the floor, the anxiety set in. It was Sunday. Ada would want to go to church.
I went about the morning not saying anything about it. I waited for her to bring it up, knowing that if the day went by without her or myself bringing it up, we wouldn't have to go to church... and I would feel like a heel.
I thought about going again. I thought about the previous Sunday. Oh, man. Those thoughts made bad feelings. I kept talking to myself in my head, I can't do it. I just can't do it. I can't.
But you need to do it for Ada. She'll be so sad when you're putting her in bed tonight, and she realizes it's Sunday, and she missed church. You know she will. You've been through this before.
But don't you remember last Sunday? It was awful! I was in hell!
But you need to do it for Ada. She'll be so sad when you're putting her in bed tonight, and she realizes it's Sunday, and she missed church. You know she will. You've been through this before.
Dammit!
I battled epically with myself all morning long. A self-battling of epic proportions. Epic battling with my own self same self.
At noon, I was like, I'm really sleepy. Time for a nap. But the guilt won out. I had gotten into bed, pulled the covers over me, fluffed my pillow... beat, beat... groaned, ripped the covers off me and got up.
I went into the living room, "Ada? Come here for a sec."
"Okay..." she said.
She comes into Matt's room and stands in the doorway.
"Come here," I say as I get on the bed.
"Am I in trouble?" she asks as she nervously climbs on the bed.
"Oh, no! No, no! I just want to tell you something about church."
"Okay," and she lays down on her side.
"So, today is Sunday, and...to be completely honest with you, Ada, last Sunday...when I was in church...I had some bad...emotions and...I...well..." I was struggling to speak in a way that she would understand.
Have I read my my own blog?
As I was trying to squeeze out a sentence, Ada sat up and said, "Okay, stop," putting her hand over my mouth. "I think I know what you're trying to say. So I just came up with a plan."
"Um, okay." Wow.
"On Sundays, I'll get ready for church, you drive me to the church, take me to my class, and then just go home till it's time to come get me."
"Oh, okay."
Why did I think for a moment that Ada, the 45-year-old professor of philosophy and wisdom in the body of a 7-year-old, would have trouble understanding the situation?
I took her to church.
I walked her in.
She led me to her classroom.
When she opened the door, poking her head through first, all the kids in the class practically in unison said, "Hi, Ada! There you are!"
I felt like a proud mama.
I went about the morning not saying anything about it. I waited for her to bring it up, knowing that if the day went by without her or myself bringing it up, we wouldn't have to go to church... and I would feel like a heel.
I thought about going again. I thought about the previous Sunday. Oh, man. Those thoughts made bad feelings. I kept talking to myself in my head, I can't do it. I just can't do it. I can't.
But you need to do it for Ada. She'll be so sad when you're putting her in bed tonight, and she realizes it's Sunday, and she missed church. You know she will. You've been through this before.
But don't you remember last Sunday? It was awful! I was in hell!
But you need to do it for Ada. She'll be so sad when you're putting her in bed tonight, and she realizes it's Sunday, and she missed church. You know she will. You've been through this before.
Dammit!
I battled epically with myself all morning long. A self-battling of epic proportions. Epic battling with my own self same self.
At noon, I was like, I'm really sleepy. Time for a nap. But the guilt won out. I had gotten into bed, pulled the covers over me, fluffed my pillow... beat, beat... groaned, ripped the covers off me and got up.
I went into the living room, "Ada? Come here for a sec."
"Okay..." she said.
She comes into Matt's room and stands in the doorway.
"Come here," I say as I get on the bed.
"Am I in trouble?" she asks as she nervously climbs on the bed.
"Oh, no! No, no! I just want to tell you something about church."
"Okay," and she lays down on her side.
"So, today is Sunday, and...to be completely honest with you, Ada, last Sunday...when I was in church...I had some bad...emotions and...I...well..." I was struggling to speak in a way that she would understand.
Have I read my my own blog?
As I was trying to squeeze out a sentence, Ada sat up and said, "Okay, stop," putting her hand over my mouth. "I think I know what you're trying to say. So I just came up with a plan."
"Um, okay." Wow.
"On Sundays, I'll get ready for church, you drive me to the church, take me to my class, and then just go home till it's time to come get me."
"Oh, okay."
Why did I think for a moment that Ada, the 45-year-old professor of philosophy and wisdom in the body of a 7-year-old, would have trouble understanding the situation?
I took her to church.
I walked her in.
She led me to her classroom.
When she opened the door, poking her head through first, all the kids in the class practically in unison said, "Hi, Ada! There you are!"
I felt like a proud mama.
Have you considered taking her to a variety of different churches so she can find one she enjoys? Maybe one you enjoy? There are thousands of churches and many of them aren't Mormon.
ReplyDeleteSounds like to me she DOES enjoy her church. If Ashley decides she wants to join another one, Ada and maybe her other siblings will gladly come along to see if that church is what they are looking for. If indeed, they are looking now or may look in the future.
ReplyDeleteBut I do applaud her 45 year old philosopher for knowing what she wants in her church, even at her physical age of 7. I understand the Mormon church is all she's ever known but plenty of kids want to leave their church behind in the dust, even at 7, because it doesn't meet any of their needs. Ada seems to know what she wants or likes what she hears there or likes having her new church friends etc. Whatever the reason, Ashley's doing the right thing getting her there when Ada wants to go. Good for you, Ashley. Just an opinion.... as all opinions are.
Point to Ada.
ReplyDelete