Last night we went to one of the Saturday night services in town. We’re trying something where if he has to preach at a church Sunday morning then we go to church together as a family on Saturday. Starting in March he said he’s not going to be doing any more pulpit supply unless it’s for something directly having to do with the camp.

None of these are easy decisions because we like the things we do. But the hard fact of things is that there has to be sacrifice when you’re raising a family. Commitments creep in and pile up and before you know it we’re compromising the agreed upon standards again. The boys and I are home this morning. Elianna went along. I didn’t have to teach.

The fragmented Sunday mornings have been bothering me for a while. And it doesn’t seem like something I’ve been able to cure with getting involved or changing attitudes. One step at a time though, and I know everything can’t be perfect and there are going to be things in our lives that aren’t ideal. We do have to bear with such things at times.

The boys are bored and wanting to go to Menards. My children’s boredom makes me restless as a mother. I could sit and relax and read a book for hours and be fine. I told them I would take them a little later after I had gotten some work done. I have a case conceptualization study due tomorrow for class. I still am struggling with my classwork.

So much that I’m thinking now that I also want to drop my trauma intensive. I will wait, however, and cross that bridge when we get there. The latest book I’m reading is called Becoming Elisabeth Elliot by Ellen Vaughn. I’m really liking it. The younger Elisabeth Elliot is very interesting compared with the stuffy and detached way I thought she was.