frazzled

I wondered if I didn't set my alarm what time I would wake up naturally on a typical school and work day. Turns out it's 7:42AM. That's not extremely late in the day-but it's ten minutes past when we typically leave for school, and it's an hour and ten minutes past the time we typically get moving and awake to get ready for the day.

I hit the ground running as did the entire family flailing through piles of clean laundry to find socks. Socks are the Holy Grail in my household. Clean ones anyway. If you find a pair it is an awe filled discovery that many have given their lives for through the ages.

We clothed the children, brushed their hair and teeth, and I threw on clothes to drive them to school and daycare respectively. In an attempt to beat the tardy bell at Chloe's school I left the house clothed but without having brushed my hair. I sported a white t-shirt wrinkled from its night on the floor, a pair of khakis also worse for wear, some brown dress shoes, and a pile of a naturally curly haired persons hair having slept on it all night hairdo. Imagine the satisfaction I felt when Chloe told me I'd have to walk her in to get a tardy pass.

I did so begrudgingly having tried in vain to use my hands to settle the mess up top-I even used some spit to no avail. We walked in with me towing Phoebe by the hand. Chloe went into her classroom while I went to the tardy pass table down the hall. The woman looked at me and her face read "This man has just returned from a hard night of drinking and I'm not even sure he has a child in school here perhaps I need to call security." I kid you not she denied handing me a tardy pass for Chloe and said that they would send her to the office to get one-all while standing up and moving away from me.

Sometimes I forget that I'm a big man-a bit overweight but also very thick and possibly a bit intimidating-especially when I look as though I fell out of a dryer after a few spins. I walked to the car a 240lb linebacker with my hand attached to a 40lb 2.5 foot tall fairy princess (Phoebe) and hoped I wouldn't have to see anyone else.

As I piled into the car a woman in a Dodge mini-van parked her van near where I parked. Her hair and makeup were immaculate and she looked at me with a look that said "I'm here to pick up my child and I hope you didn't just abduct her." I waved and grimaced. I was tempted to jump out of the car and scamper towards her in an ape like gallop but then my daughter has to go to school there every day, and the headline "Local pastor intimidates parent and school children with a gorilla like rampage" didn't seem like something I'd like to have in the Springfield News Sun. That headline would be too long anyway. She could have been packing a gun and it would read "Local pastor shot and killed" which would be even less amusing.

The moral of the story? I'm overly concerned with my personal appearance, but not so much that I remember to always set my alarm.

OR is it: How much then can I forgive myself and others when we fall short of the ideal? About as much as it would take for me to walk through the hallway of a public school looking frazzled with my daughter so she wouldn't have to walk down it alone. I'd gladly stand before an auditorium full of people in the state I was in this morning if she needed that to know I love her.

Take care everyone-I hope to write more often. If you haven't abandoned the posts here entirely I thank you for your patience.

Peace to you and yours. You are dearly loved by God-always. We all are.
Dwight