Teaching Sunday School with a Hangover

I taught Sunday School at our church for about seven years and my daughter, Laurel, served as my helper. We stepped down a little over a year ago. 

When I started teaching, I didn't drink alcohol all that much, but occasionally, I did. One Sunday morning I remember feeling the effects of imbibing too freely the night before, and I determined that I would never teach Sunday School with a hangover again.

So if we were at a gathering or party on Saturday night, I was careful to not overdo it. I wanted to be a good example for my second graders in Sunday School the next morning, not to mention my daughter and helper, Laurel. I made a pact with myself, and did my best to keep it.

Two years ago, however, the St. Patrick's Day parade was a perfect storm.

I had run 10 miles early with my friend, Kristen. (I know this because I keep a 10-year diary, a habit I picked up from my dad). Then Dave and I planned to meet up with friends at the Monarch on the parade route through Delano. I don't remember if I ate breakfast. I suspect I didnt.

Since the weather was a chilly 40 degrees, I decided to wear my cozy fur coat (which I received from Dave's mom Janet's estate). Since we happened to have some wine in the house, Dave had a great idea to fill up a wineskin and bring our own drinks. Since I am thrifty, I thought that was a great idea. I hooked it over my shoulder and easily concealed it under my fur coat. 

St. Patrick's Day Parade 2017- 40 degrees

So we met our friends and joined the gathering throng to watch the parade.

I was in charge of the wineskin, so it was very easy for me to take frequent sips, but not so easy to share. Dave ended up getting a green beer, and I made surprising progress on the wine. 

I knew at the time that some red wines are triggers for my migraine headaches, but I don't think I realized then how sensitive I am to them. Or maybe I have become more since then. Who knows?

I do know, however, that I drank most of the contents of the wineskin. Then I had a green beer because we were celebrating St. Patrick's Day, after all. Then after the parade we went to the newly-opened Aero Plains Brewery and I had a craft beer but I have no idea which one. We ran into other friends and I remember trying hard to concentrate on what they were saying, but having little success.

It was a little after 3 p.m., for sure no later than 4 p.m. when Dave realized he needed to get me home. I went straight to bed, but had a rough evening and night. I probably took at least one dose of my prescription migraine medicine.

As luck would have it, that was also the weekend to start daylight savings time. Yay! Spring ahead! Laurel and I were scheduled to teach Sunday School at 9:30 a.m., although it would feel like 8:30 a.m. (or zero dark thirty for me!)

As the morning approached I wondered if I would be able to make it. I kicked myself for getting into this situation. I didnt want to bail on the kids and call in sick, but I didn't want to teach Sunday School with a hangover, either. 

I started feeling a little better and decided I could teach. I got ready, had some breakfast, and Laurel and got to church and made it through Sunday School.

We attended second service, like usual. Afterwards, Chuck, our worship pastor, made a special point to come over and talk to Laurel and me. His son, Noah, had been in our 2nd grade class that morning.

Chuck told us that Noah had insisted on going to Sunday School during first service that morning even though it was an hour earlier with the time change because Mrs. Franklin and Laurel were his favorite teachers.

God says we are to come to him as little children, and there are times that He uses little children to deliver His messages of grace. 

At least that was what happened that day, from Noah's sweet declaration that we were his favorite teachers, to his perceptive dad who diligently passed it on, most likely obeying the promptings of the Holy Spirit even though he had no idea how desperately I would be needing that message of grace.

Newborn Love

Almost two weeks ago our oldest son, Caleb, made me a grandma when his fiancée June, gave birth to sweet little Rose Elizabeth.

I immediately fell in love with her when I first saw her five minutes after she was born, lying skin-to-skin on her mother and looking at the new world with wide dark eyes. The next day when I got to hold my little rosebud I thought my heart would burst.

Watching Caleb and June care for the baby over the past two weeks has brought back memories of when that same son made me new mom.
After string of nights with not much sleep and probably unbalanced hormones, I told my husband, Dave, "I don't love Caleb."

Shocked and disbelieving, he said, "You do too. You love Caleb."

"No," I said. "No I don't." And I absolutely meant it. I looked at that baby who I had unquestionably loved the day before and felt nothing. I was certain. I didn't love him.

However, the next day, after finally getting more sleep I was doing much better and could confidently say I loved my baby.

I loved watching his expressions as he moved from sleep to waking, as he started tracking with his eyes, and even smiling. Joy!

But even though I knew I loved him, and could laugh about the one day I had said I didn't, I was aware of my limitations.

I couldn't sit and watch all of his goofy faces all of the time. Sometimes I needed to cook, wash dishes, or tend to the laundry. And even if I left all of those things undone, I still knew that physically I couldn't be present for every smile or cry. Sometimes I had to sleep.

And I thought how my favorite psalm, Psalm 121, says God "neither slumbers nor sleeps."

God's love isn't limited by physical exhaustion like mine was. He doesn't need to take breaks. He can be ever-present. The psalm continues, "He will watch over your life. The LORD will watch over your coming and going both now and forevermore."

God isn't limited by time and space. The same God who knit Caleb together while in my womb (Psalm 139) was around to fearfully and wonderfully make my granddaughter Rose as well. And He loves them--and all of us--with a love that is so wide, so long, so high, and so deep that we can hardly comprehend it (Ephesians 3:17).

A mother's (or grandmother's) love is only the beginning.

Caleb Mark Franklin, 4 days old

Rose Elizabeth Franklin, 10 days old