Yuck.

Yesterday, I got the wonderful pleasure of doing something I'd hoped could be put off for years: going to church sick. I've been sick off and on all week long, and, of course, yesterday was the worst day so far. So I got up, forced myself to eat some breakfast, drank some coffee, took some medicine, and hoped for the best. By the middle of the 8:15 service, said coffee, medicine, and breakfast had kicked in and I felt pretty good. I didn't really have to fake being awake or excited anymore. I read my reading, said my prayer, heard a great sermon, and mingled a little during coffee time (during which I had some more coffee).

Yesterday was also my first day to attend the 7th and 8th grade Sunday school class, which are the biblical confirmation years. Confirmation at St. Mark is 3 years: Old Testament, New Testament, and Catechism. The ninth graders meet approximately every other week for their Confirmation time. So I got to sit with the SUPER quiet junior high kids and try to help Stacy get them to talk. The boys eventually started giving answers, but the girls never did talk. I've been continually surprised by how many of the junior and senior high kids are so quiet. I'm pretty sure I was never quiet, and I think most of the kids in my Confirmation class were talkative. We were constantly being told to settle down, and I don't remember anyone who needed to be prodded into talking. Since I'm just observing, I haven't been interfering much in this manner, but I'm curious to see what Stacy and Pastor Linda do as time goes on. I'm curious to hear what everyone has to say, and I'm sure they are, too.

So after the class, I went and robed up for the second service. Then things really started to fall apart. All of a sudden, none of my medicine or caffeine seemed to be working again. I had to force myself to keep my eyes open, and I could barely sing. I managed to make it through my reading and prayer again, but things were not looking good. I was just biding time, hoping to make it through the rest of the service. I don't know what I would have done if I was the pastor. I only had a few parts in the service this morning, and I was hidden behind a column for the rest of it. No one knew that I was trying not to fall asleep for most of the second half. So I made it through, talked a little, then headed home to take a nap, which got me through Confirmation.

I don't remember my dad ever being sick on a Sunday. Sometimes he was sick on Mondays, but I don't even recall him complaining about not feeling well on Sunday afternoon. I can't imagine that he never got sick in the 18 years that I lived with him while he was a pastor. But he certainly never whined about it, and he never let the congregation know how he was feeling. There are definitely times to let the congregation know you're not perfect. I'm definitely not going to try to exude perfection, because that just perpetuates the idea that I'm supposed to have no flaws. But I think there's something to be said for not letting people know that you're not feeling 100% on Sunday morning...I just hope I don't have to do that again for awhile!