Night, Night

I have a confession to make. In every church I’ve attended since I was young, I’ve consistently fought drowsiness during the sermon portion of the service. My first actual memory of this was in my teen years in the church I grew up in. I was in the choir, which was on an elevated platform in back of the pastor. The choir stayed in the choir loft for the entire service.

Once I sat still for the sermon, the desire to sleep hit hard for the entire congregation to view in all its glory. Getting anything out of the sermon was futile. First attempts to fight drowsiness involved pinching me hard on the arm, then moving around on the seat, and the last of all struggling with every fiber of my body to keep my head from bobbing. Magically, I was wide awake as soon as the service concluded.

In years to follow, the element of a wife as “church wake-up patrol” was added. Her duties include sharp jabs in the side and whispers of, “wake up, or go walk it off out in the hallway.”As I proceeded to the vestibule, I hoped the pastor was not paying attention to my disruption.

After the service (as we were driving home) my wife (in her brand of wife love) made me aware of how the sermon was something I needed to hear because I was dealing with this in my life right now. “Your problem is spiritual in nature. Satan didn’t want you to hear today’s message. He was successful.”

Even though I don’t like it, I have learned to come to terms with this minor default in my Christianity. No matter what anyone says (or solutions offered), I don’t see this issue changing anytime soon. The other option, which I won’t consider involves not attending church. Church (and my relationship to God are an intrinsic part of the man I am today).