It's Sunday morning. I stayed up too late the night before. I regret some things I said at a get together we had at our house. Who am I to go out now and teach sunday school, then lead a women's bible study mid week, then discuss spiritual topics and scripture at house fellowship?
Satan's lies are in full swing. Condemning me. Beating me down. Stealing my joy.
So I trudge through. I shower and style my hair (which is not cooperating). I peer in the mirror and examine my stray eyebrow hairs, that zit between my eyes and am I sprouting a mustache? Sigh add "I'm ugly" to the list.
I get in the car with my family guzzling my coffee for survival purposes. Get to church early and set up my classroom.
I head to worship service and put in little effort to praise my King. (I mean I have to watch an 18 month old who is quick to escape if I take my eyes off her).
The children are dismissed to Sunday School and I go along with them...
As I begin to teach God shows up. As I tell the children about how wonderful it is that Jesus is alive, my heart is restored. As each child throw their hands high into the air and says their memory verse "Sing praises to the Lord." Psalm 9:11 I rejoice with them.
I stop thinking about my bad hair day and what I am wearing and celebrate.
JESUS IS ALIVE!
And He just showed up to be with me.