Waiting (Fathom Mag)

I stood in front of the bathroom mirror, giving my reflection a pep talk, “It’s Advent. It’s the first time you’ve taken your whole family to church in a year. Something is going to happen. There will be a gift for you there.” Going to church together was a big deal because not going to church together was a big deal. 

I am a former missionary-kid turned pastor’s-kid who, even after my dad died, didn’t go more than a couple Sundays without my butt in a pew. I married the son of a Presbyterian preacher. We met young, walked down the aisle before I turned twenty-one, then spent the next few years becoming parents to two baby boys and eventually our youngest son Zion, whom we adopted. 

Zion isn’t the reason we stopped going to church all together a year ago but he was a perfectly-timed straw on the back of a camel.

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