For Sunday Morning

This one’s for the single mom, the military spouse, the cop’s wife, the woman whose husband won’t go to church. This one’s for the woman who does the toothbrush, pajama, bedtime story, no-more-getting-out-of-bed-son routine all by herself and then wakes up on Sunday morning to get herself and her kids dressed, ready, and looking decent… and wearing matching shoes… also by herself.

This one’s for the woman who doesn’t have the luxury of applying her make-up in the passenger seat while someone else drives.

This one’s for the woman who took all three of her kids to 3 different Sunday school classes and survived one “no-I don’t-want-you-to-leave-me!” tantrum. This one’s for the woman who snuck in during the middle of the third song and sat down in the very back, the one for whom just making it is a victory in itself.

This one’s for the momma who feels small, like everyone notices that there is no man present and wonders about it.  This one’s for the momma who dreads the cue to “turn and greet somebody” because all you see is husbands and wives and this magical land of perfect families and you forget you belong here.

This one’s for the weary one, the bone-tired one desperate for a touch from God, the one who wants to sink into her pew when the minister talks about serving because just getting to church is really all you have to give.

This one’s for the one who overcomes temper tantrums, self-pity, lost mascara, missing shoes, slow drivers, and the worry that maybe you don’t fit in because you don’t look how you think church-goers should look. This one’s for the woman who puts her children above herself, the one who pushes back the lies of the enemy, the one who tries to be transparent, the one who chooses to live in community with other believers, the one who seeks after God’s face with all her heart. This one’s for the one who doesn’t always feel like being that woman.

This is for you.

This is for me too.

Maybe you need to know that it is really hard for me to get to church right now. Maybe you need to know you aren’t alone. Maybe you need to know that I see you. Maybe you need to know that the church is made of misfits, of broken, of sinners, and that the enemy would like nothing better than for you to think you don’t belong. Maybe you need to know that sometimes in this following-Christ life, the way we feel doesn’t match what God requires.

Do it anyways.

Do it for your children. Do it for your husband (or the one that may be in your future). Do it for yourself. Do it because it’s worship, because it’s sacrifice, and because it’s community… and all are important. Do it because the church needs your voice. Do it for the woman who is struggling to get to church too. Do it because you are keeping the enemy from getting the victory.


In this uncomfortable space, in this desperate and lonely place, I have seen God work in my heart. I have fallen deeper in love with Him. My sufficiency has decreased, so Christ’s very present and abundant grace has increased in my life.

Sometimes I feel like I barely have anything to give… what could I possible bring to the body of Christ? Tired, weary, barely wanting to go to church, and never making it on time… what do I have to give? And somehow in this place, God reminds me: Your salvation is free. And My love is yours. You cannot do anything to earn it.  You just have it.

My pride hates all that I am learning, but it’s kind of an amazing thing to behold.
God. Is. For. Me… and that truth cannot be shaken from me. I know know it.

I can hear His soft voice:
Rest in me. I have prepared a place for you.
And that raising children (and supporting your husband) business? That’s kind of a big deal.

And that mom who is sitting by herself? You know what it’s like to be her, go love on her for Me.



So maybe instead of closing with a question, how about I close with a challenge? How about you find someone at church today who is all by their lonesome and after you ask for their name and how they are, give them that look... you know, the you are welcome and you belong here and I don't really care what baggage you came with because I got some of my own too and how about we learn to follow Christ together look. (Is there such a look? I think there should be. :)) 



By Grace,
Amanda Conquers