We walked into church late today. I would love to say that this is a rarity but that would be a bold-faced lie. Especially because I am not a morning person.
Let me clarify: I love mornings but prefer to spend them in my bed.
I like to drink a hot mug of coffee. Snuggle in between the warm sheets. Take my time and leisurely ease into the day.
And on Sunday mornings, I am well-known for leisurely easing into the day until about 9:15 or 9:30 when our family of five has to be out the door by 9:50 at the latest to make it in time for music. 9:43 if we want the kids to get donuts and us to get coffee.
We scoot in on fumes, walk in, and take our seats. In the front.
Yes. We are front sitters. But mostly because the reality is that no one is usually quick to claim the front row. And so, when you roll in at the 13th hour, it’s basically always available.
The left side. Front row. It’s pretty much been our mainstay since we switched to this school (because we go to church in a school gym. Because obviously we’re a cult. Because we like cults. And obviously all that was a total joke. But we do go to church in a gym. But we are just Lutheran. Not a cult).
But today. Today we walked in at 4 after the hour and guess what? First communion. Which meant that church was as packed as a man bar during NFL season. And so. The front row was claimed. Rightfully so… we don’t pay extra for those seats. And. We are notoriously late. And other people deserved a closeup view for the bread and the wining.
Where were we to go?
Do you ever feel that way? Like you are okay with having to change your regularly scheduled program. But you just aren’t exactly sure how you’re supposed to play it out.
So. To the back row we went. On the right side. With our usual first row, also often late friends.
And oh. My. Lawd.
It was so darn refreshing.
It shouldn’t have been that different. I mean, we were in the same service with the same people. But I have to tell you, just changing our view, getting a different feel for the congregation, and hearing the sermon from a different spot… well… it was different. And somehow really fantastic.
We giggled as we decided we could dance and no one could see us. We took communion last — instead of our usual first. It was just a new and fresh perspective. From one little changeup. And it was one of my favorite parts of the day.
It made me wonder, how often do we just keep on keepin’ on, doing all the same things, because it is just what we do? It’s just comfortable? It’s working? It ain’t broke, so why fix it?
How often do we allow contentment to make us stagnate? Or comfort to make us have only our perspective?
And how else can we make minor changes in our regular routine — switch up just the tiniest thing — just to give our eyes and our hearts a new feeling and a refresh?
So. I decided that this week, I’d try something different. I’m not going to say I am going to do this thing forever. I am not saying I will succeed. But I will make one. Small. Change. This week. And see what it does to awaken different feelings for the days.
This week — I’m going to try fitting my workouts in before the kids wake up again. I did this pretty routinely before I got sick. And then, I did it again post-mastectomy when I was training. But again, I love sleeping. Sleep and I go together like ramalamalamalamalamadingdadong, ya know? But I think it might be good to shake things up just a smidge. Try a new start to my day. Try a new perspective. A new view.
I know. It seems sort of counterintuitive because it was, in fact, sleeping in, that helped me reach this decision so why would I ever disrupt that beauty? Because we have one life. Might as well shake things up.
And, the great thing about life is every day is a new day and a new chance to try something new. I know. That was a lot of new-ness. But truly. Every single day allows for change, tweaking, risk taking, and switching it up. And yet, so often, we get stuck in the motions. Our feet become planted in ease of doing the same same over and over again. And the familiarity becomes like a cozy blanket that we are snuggled up in and don’t want to shake.
And then you sit in the back row and realize that it’s not worse from somewhere else… it’s just new/different/fresh. And that’s kinda cool.
So tomorrow, I will wake up and try to woga in the morn. I will shake off the covers of comfort in favor for a brand new week and a brand new chance to start anew. And I will see how it goes.
What about you? Are you sitting in the back row and are always dreaming of being up front? Are you stuck in the monotony of what you feel like people just expect you to do every day? Or are you someone who changes seats every day because you always want to keep yourself guessing?
I am someone who used to struggle when a wrench got thrown in my plans. I honestly had anxiety over the tiniest hiccups. And I carried it all on my own shoulders. And every time I had to ask myself, “but where do I go?” Or “what do I do?” I felt completely ill-equipped to figure that out.
But not now. When I got sick I realized that the questions of “where do I go?” Or “what do I do?” often have a million different answers and we have unlimited fresh days until we cease to figure out what fits best/works best/does best/ is the easiest or most effective, for us. What a gift!
It’s a new day tomorrow. And I’m hoping that when my feet hit the floor, it won’t be too late for me to get to the gym. I’m betting 50/50 on myself right now, if I’m being honest. Because beds are soft and fall mornings are dark and crisp (like really good chocolate). But no matter what, I am thankful for the subtle reminder from being late to church today: sometimes all it takes to change your life — or even just the day — is to change your seat. And experience your life from another view.
Maybe it works, maybe it doesn’t. Maybe you like it, maybe you don’t. Maybe you find your place, maybe you go back. But in the end, at least you are living. Because I think life might really be best when lived.