Sunday Morning at the Pastor’s House

Ever wonder what Sunday morning is like for the pastor and his family?  Here’s a peek into the Faulk house.  It’s not like this every week… just most weeks…

10pm, Saturday – To bed early!  Because we anticipate everyone getting a good night’s sleep!  Never happened on a Saturday night before… but we continue to hope!

2am – Emma comes to our room.  Insists that her toys are alive.  We curse Toy Story under our breaths, convince her to go back to sleep, and try to fall back asleep as well.

2:30am – Emma is back.  Now there’s “tunder” outside. No, that’s just the neighbor, starting his ridiculously huge Hummer up at 2:30 in the morning.  Convince her to go back to sleep, and try to sleep as well.

3:30am – Wes is up and out the door to run. 

3:32am – Charlie begins whining from the living room.  Because Wes was in there for approximately six seconds, Charlie figures it’s morning.

3:34am – When a pillow to my face doesn’t prevent me from hearing Charlie’s agony, I get out of bed and let him out.  Begin to snooze in the recliner until…

3:35am – Charlie jumps on the back door.  Because I’m well trained, I get up, let him in, and fall back to the couch for more sleep.

3:37am – Charlie licks me in the face after drinking nearly a gallon of water.  I pat his head.  He lies down beside the couch with my hand on his head.  We both sleep.  Finally.

4:30am – Wes comes back from his run.  Neither Charlie nor I move to greet him.  Wes wakes me up to tell me to go back to bed.  I say goodnight to Charlie, head back to bed, and fall asleep.

5:30am – Wes comes into the bedroom.  He makes so much noise getting ready for the day that I go back to the living room to get some peace.  Charlie greets me with another lick to the face.  I fall asleep on the couch… but it takes a while.

6:00am – Wes wakes me up (again!) to tell me that he’s leaving.  And that he’s picking up breakfast for himself on the way since his wife still hasn’t even made it into the kitchen yet.  And that’s he’s concerned that I’m never going to wake up in time to make it to church.  And that’s he’s setting the alarm on my phone and putting it right by my head so that I have to wake up.  I hear about 10% of what he says but wake up enough to kiss him and mutter, “Go away.  Charlie wants you to go away.”  Charlie wags his tail.  Annnnndddd…. I fall back asleep.

6:15am – My alarm goes off.  Really, Wes?!

6:18am – I determine I can’t go back to bed.  So I read my Bible.  And begin to feel that this day is going to be AWESOME.  Make a plan to actually fix my hair and wear makeup so as to look beautiful for the preacher… who I told to go away not even eighteen minutes earlier.  Feel some intense conviction.

7:00am – The phone rings. Wes is making sure I actually did get up.  And he tells me he has a donut in his office with my name on it. What did I say?  This day is going to be AWESOME!  I love that guy so much.

7:30am – Leisurely shower and begin getting ready.  About two minutes into the shower, am interrupted by one small girl. “I want pancakes.”  Rush through the shower, throw on a robe, wrap my hair in a towel, and make the child pancakes.

8:00am – The child is FINALLY done with the pancakes because she spent most of her time talking my ear off at the breakfast table.  By this time, another small girl has come into the kitchen.  Does she want the extra pancakes I made?  No.  She wants toast.  Begin making it.

8:30am – Annnnndddd, we’re finally done with the toast.  (They can both talk.  A LOT.)  I do the dishes, in between finding some cartoons to entertain the girls, who are now jumping around the living room like giant bunnies, prompting Charlie to do the same.  Let Charlie out, let Charlie in, do dishes, kiss boo-boos (because someone was bound to get hurt jumping like a bunny), send them to pick out dresses, take a call from Wes (“when are you getting here?  I miss you”), and look at the clock.


8:46am – Get the girls dressed.  Fix their hair.  Brush their teeth.  Argue with them over what shoes actually match.  Give in and let them wear Crocs and flip flops.

9:00am – Make it to my own bathroom with a child attached to my leg.  Convince her to let go by offering her the use of some makeup so that I can have five minutes to get myself ready.  Throw on some clothes and determine that “fixing my hair” today will be nothing more than brushing the wet mess and throwing on a headband.  Oh, well.  Turn around to put on at least some makeup and find that Emma has about a pound of blush on both cheeks.  “I look beeeee-you-tiful!”  Makeup time spent taking makeup OFF of small child.

9:10am – Out the door.  The girls look great.  Mommy looks… well, the preacher loves me no matter what.

9:11am – Back in the door to make sure the coffeemaker is off.

9:12am – Back out the door.

9:13am – Break up a girl fight while driving.  Proclaim that no one is allowed to touch, speak to, or look at one another until Sunday school.  (See the grouchy faces in the picture above.)

9:17am – At church!  Finally!  Let the girls kiss Papi before ushering them upstairs.

9:20am – Get intercepted about ten times both ways by various people.  Try to remember as I’m talking to them whether or not I got a chance to brush my teeth this morning.  (The odds are about half and half, y’all.)

9:30am – Late to my own Sunday school class.  But I’m going to eat that donut, y’all!  Kiss the pastor.  Have him confirm that I did, in fact, brush my teeth this morning.  Kiss him again, just because I can!

9:31am – Determine that next week?  I’ll wake up earlier.  Maybe.

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