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Sunday mornings are chaos.

You wake up behind the 8-ball every week. For once, your kids slept in a bit later than normal. You turn on the pot of coffee even though you know you won’t have time to drink a full cup. You scramble to feed the kids breakfast while all they want to do is play with their toys. You spend way too much time trying to pick out your kids’ outfits. With five minutes left you rub in some dry shampoo, fill in your eyeliner, and throw on something wrinkly.

You get to church realizing you forgot the snacks and the favorite toys. You won’t make it to the sermon without a meltdown.

The meltdown begins. Exit stage right before you become the center of attention. You spend the rest of the church service chasing your children around, dodging entrances back to the sanctuary and eating cookies from the church kitchen.

You haven’t heard a sermon since your children were born, and every week you question, “Is it even worth it?”

You’re stressed out. Your patience wearing thin, And you can’t name a single hymn that was sung.

You keep looking at the clock, counting down the minutes until the service is over and you can go home and drink that cup of coffee sitting on your kitchen counter.

Finally, the service is over, your monsters turn into angels as the congregation enters the fellowship hall. So cute and innocent. You mingle with your fellow church members, feeling thankful for such an amazing community.

The community and the support . . . it is worth it.

Next Sunday comes around and you tell your kids it is time to get ready for church, and they look at you, fold their hands and say “AMEN.”

It is worth it.

A familiar song comes on the radio, they attempt to sing along.

It is worth it.

It won’t be long, and they’ll sit in the pew, they’ll eat their snacks, and they’ll soak in every word without even knowing it.

It is worth it.

God willing, one day they’ll have their own children. They’ll chase them around at church every Sunday and not hear a single word. But they’ll be there.

Plant the seed, watch it grow.

I promise . . . it will be worth it.

Originally published on the author’s blog

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Rachel Granstra

Rachel Granstra, a Jesus follower, farm wife, and twin mama. She was born and raised in northwest Iowa and met the love of her life at age 18, and sealed the deal on her 20th birthday. After struggling with infertility for over 3 years, the good Lord blessed them with their two miracle babies. Her passion to serve the Lord by loving her family is the driving force behind Little House on the Feedlot. If she can just bring one family closer to the Lord and to each other, her mission is a success.

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