The Sunday morning 'BLAHg's

(Formerly titled.. 'But I don't wanna go to church.')
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I could tell this was going to be a very bad day to go to church.  Just getting out of bed was tough enough.. and the Sunday paper was calling my name…. “psst fella, over here… look at me. I know STUFF” ​

The coffee was brewing, and it called out to me too.. “Hey fella, slow down.. it’s Sunday.”

​So, I listened to the voices.. ​

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I grabbed the paper (cuz it wasn't gonna read itself), a cup of coffee.. and I was ready to leap into a state of perpetual in-action.  

​After all Sunday is the DAY OF REST (Genesis 2:2-3) and the Lord said it was GOOD.

Now I am a good Christian man, and as leader of our home it is important sometimes to declare a family day!.. where we stay home from church and spend time together bonding. 

Ok, I confess 'Family Day' is actually code for I WANT TO STAY HOME AND NOT SHOWER UNTIL NOON… drink a pot of coffee, and read the sports section and maybe the Sunday funnies.

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Well I may be the Head of the House, but my wife wants to go to church and sing with the 'other' blessed saints. 

Sing?  I don’t honestly like to sing, and I know the people I go to church with.  They be nice people but .. SAINTS they AINT.

  So off we go to church leaving my Sunday morning paper and my coffee at home.

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So I bid adieu to my very good friends the Sunday paper, coffee mug, and my fuzzy slippers as we board the family car that knows it's way down that familiar road to that familiar church with a backseat loaded with our darlin’ children who bicker and fuss in that also familiar way that they do.. the whole blessed drive to church.

This leaves me all the more lamenting the ‘family day’ lost.

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Then we arrive to the blessed house of God and put on our happy faces.

First things first.. COFFEE. In the fellowship area they do have coffee.. but it is not STARBUCKS, Folgers, or even SANKA.  

Our coffee is not brewed in a fancy latte-da Espresso machine or even a Kurig.  Instead my church dispenses a strong black brew from a traditional big ALUMINUM DRUM that has been used but not cleaned since the Eisenhower Administration. It probably resembles a moonshine still more than a Kurig.

It's not great coffee, but I still down a couple cups of brew to keep me awake for what is to come.

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After the formalities of coffee we move to the church sanctuary.  There are no cushy theater seating at our church but instead we have traditional wooden (with no pads) church pews so I sit and pray for a sliver free service.

The sanctuary is not really so crowded, but I am a big guy, and the ambiance falls short in comfort to sitting in MY living room drinking MY coffee, and reading MY Sunday paper.. in MY PJs!! …  having a FAMILY DAY!

BUT I DIGRESS… again!

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 The Worship Leader is a bit over the top, and his Las Vegas flair certainly is noticeable during his rendition of ‘The King is Coming’.. This only serves to bring the ‘worship wonders’ out of the wood work. 

I don’t sing so ‘gooder’, and my sense of rhythm is that of a badger with back spasms. IT’S NOT PRETTY so I keep my worship stylings pretty close to the vest.

But no worry.. we have all the 'charismaniacs' types to make up for me… performing I guess for style points. We have Bullwinkle,  Six-shooter Sam, Holey Harry Holman, and I sitting right behind a guy with the plumbers backside with hands raised high.

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Even when the people are not hootin’ and hollerin’ they are peculiar.. AND past Sunday mornings have not been free of controversy. 

• There was the Head-Lice Epidemic of 2004. 
• The  Cal Ripken of ushers who should have just taken a sick day instead both infected and grossed out the parishioners one communion Sunday in 2008.   
• AND .. with regards to our church being full of grace.. well NOT to the repeat offenders who dare fall asleep during the sermon.

The offering/guilt plate is of course passed which I with a smirk said..”no thanks, I am trying to cut back on giving.” 

My smirk moves to a cringe at the sight of our pastor as he saunters up to the pulpit… armed only with one lapel microphone and the word of God… both which he seems to overuse.

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Pastor's words and mannerisms are direct, and passionate, but I notice his pants are unzipped. This brings up a less than holy smirk on my face as I PRAY “Dear God please keep me from giggling!” Nothing sounds sillier than a big man giggling at church!

  So there you have it. I do hope and pray there are jewels in my crown someday when I get to Heaven because on this day.. I WAS AT CHURCH worshiping with the saints and aints when I wanting to be home worshiping God in my own way with my new Virtual Reality Church System.

signed -  some anonymous Sunday blogger or in this case BLAHgger

Disclaimer: The opinions expressed here are the views of an 'anonymous guy' and do not necessarily  reflect the views and opinions of The Back Pew. :)

Truth is.. I love my church and look forward to Sunday.  Our church motto is 'No perfect people allowed'.. and so I fit right in with others like me who prayerfully seek to worship and honor our God with our lives.  God is good, and his Grace is complete.

I pray God will bless each of you with a church you can call home.

Jeff (anonymous guy) Larson

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