"And they’ll know we are Christians by our love…"

Last week I finally realized that my children have no regard for the clothes that they have.  They do not appreciate the fact that there is usually clean laundry always at their disposal.  I stopped doing their laundry last Thursday.  I told them they (the older 3-4) were responsible for their stuff.  I don’t think they believed me.

Yesterday after supper, I called them down and had them empty the laundry room.  It was so stuffed with clothes, you could barely open the door.  I think they were a little overwhelmed at the mound that piled there.  I had them sort through for their clothes.  I told them that there lays all their stuff.  If they wanted it clean, then wash it.

I have to admit, it feels good.  I don’t even feel bad.  As far as Max and the younger two, as long as it is in their bin, I’ll wash it.  They have always been good about putting their clothes away.

Guess they are growing up.  If I want them to be responsible men, it  has to include laundry!    🙂

I feel OK with the laundry that is my part because it isn’t an unreasonable amount any more!    Yah, me!

Zach asked me the other day, “How come some people don’t think we are Christians?”

That question surprised me a bit.  I guess it was a judgement that  was made based on the fact that we were not going to church regularly.  I found it bothersome.  It has been on my mind a bit.  Part of my wants to react ugly and mouth off but I won’t.  What is the point?  If someone is taught to judge Christianity based on church attendance… wow, won’t heaven be an interesting place?

My fingers have had to pause.  I feel that age old anger surfacing.  I feel that deep frustration that people are just so ignorant.  

This weekend at the retreat, my girlfriend and I were talking about church, God and all that is in the middle.  I was telling her of my decision to go back to church with some commitment to attend regularly.  This was a decision based on my children’s needs and desires.  It was a decision based on a nudge.  

I was then telling her about my dad’s letter.  She asked if I got the letter after the decision to go back to church.  She saw it as maybe they were connected.  I told her I didn’t.  I think that God understands my deepest hurts.  He knows me deepest fears.  He knows what I need.  I don’t think that God would take the peace that came with the letter away, even if I chose not to go to church.  I don’t think He is that kind of God.

As I listened that weekend to the conversations, so many revolved around church.  So much revolved on hurts and disappointments.  I really think that is because we expect too much.  Church is really a place to meet with others and worship God.  It really should be that simple, shouldn’t it?

That is what I see it as.  That is why this last weekend felt so good and was church for me.  We shared, sang, prayed and connected.  

“And they’ll know we are Christians by our love.”

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