It happened again today.
I get a heavy feeling upon my shoulders. I feel rushed. Suddenly, the morning is gone and I’m late – when I should’ve had plenty of time to get ready. Goodness, I’ve been up since six. Three hours is plenty of time to get ready and make it to church on time.
That’s what I’m talking about. Getting to church on Sunday mornings. You’d think I was putting on a ton of armor and going onto a desert battlefield.
I’m just going to spend an hour with a few preschoolers.
How hard can that be?
Why do I make it so hard?
Why do I listen to that little voice, that speaks to me as I’m rushing through the house? The voice that tells me I’m not good enough. I should quit.
But I haven’t listened to that voice yet. I’m still teaching Sunday School and every Sunday, the class works out fine. No matter how prepared I am, or not. It’s like the Lord is watching over me and helps me communicate His word to these little children. His little children.
I am reminded, when I look into their precious little faces, that they love the Lord with an innocence I need to revisit. They know God and they know Jesus and it’s my job to teach them stories of the Bible.
No wonder the Devil wants to put a roadblock in my path every Sunday morning.
But I’m not going to let him.
It’s easy to quit. However, I couldn’t live with myself. I made a commitment and I’m going to see it through.